


Colin and three hundred others

by octoaliencowboy



Category: Batman- all media types, DCU, Super Sons, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Alternating, What even is this???????, fuck you dc bring my boi back, how do i tag this????, they are good children who deserve love and happiness, this ended up being way longer than intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoaliencowboy/pseuds/octoaliencowboy
Summary: Colin Wilkes had been missing for years, and no one even realized until Damian Wayne had a strange dream. Suddenly the search is on for not only Colin, but nearly three hundred other children as well. Why did Damian only remember Colin now, and how? Will Damian find his friend, or has it been too long?Is he too late?He might be.





	1. The dream

**Author's Note:**

> Just so y'all know, it starts off slow but I swear it'll pick up the pace really quickly. This fic falls under the category of "Basically what I would write if I worked for DC and had free reign of these characters."
> 
> DC should hire me.

_‘Damian… Damian!’_

_Damian whirled around at the sound of the voice, looking frantically for the source. There was none. He could feel solid, smooth ground beneath his feet, but there was no indication that he was surrounded by anything other than endless black void. Suddenly he heard the voice again. It was stronger this time, more distinct._

_‘Come on, Dames,’ it said. ‘Where'd you go?’_

_“Show yourself!” Damian shouted, angry and confused. That voice… “Who are you?!”_

_A deep, ringing sigh floated throughout the dark abyss._

_‘Aw, Dames,’ said the voice. ‘Don't tell me you don't remember?’_

_“Remember?” Damian cried. “Remember what? Who? Tell me your name!”_

_‘When you wake up…’_

_There was a strange sound, almost like a gust of wind tearing through the place, although Damian couldn't feel any breeze. He turned and startled to find a strange, ghost like figure mere inches from his face. Wide, pale eyes seemed to look right through him. Small spatters of freckles stood out like stars in the otherwise empty place._

_‘...remember **me** , Damian.’_

\------------------------

Damian bolted upright with a sharp, deep gasp. Alfred the cat, startled, jumped off the bed and bolted away, but Damian didn't notice. His gaze was darting around the shadowy dark room, searching for any sign of wide eyes, long hair, tattered clothes, freckles, anything reminiscent of his strange dream. 

There were none. 

Eventually he managed to calm his racing heartbeat and steady his breath. He cast one last glance around the room before looking down at where his hands clutched at the duvet. 

His knuckles were white. 

Slowly Damian relaxed his fingers as well, trying to figure out what the dream meant. 

He found no answers. 

He felt like he wanted to scream. 

He wanted to know who that boy was. 

Deciding almost an hour later that he wouldn’t be falling back asleep anyway, Damian carefully climbed out of bed and snuck down to the batcave. Luckily for him it was empty, and he helped himself to the computer. 

Damian spun idly in the bat-computer bat-chair (which, unlike most of the caves equipment that was updated regularly, still had the old weathered label back from Dick’s Robin days) trying to figure out where to start researching. It was strange, normally Damian wouldn't have gotten this worked up over a mere dream, but he had this overwhelming feeling that the strange boy from his strange dream was _real_. He knew him, he was sure of it. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, hidden in the back of his mind. He just needed to unlock it, spark his memory somehow. 

There wasn't a lot to go on, with just a dream though. But there were clues there. The boy couldn't have been just an acquaintance because he called him Dames. One would have to establish a very solid, deep personal bond with Damian in order to gain the privilege of nicknaming him. Like Grayson, for example. But if this boy was someone he had been very close with, once, then why couldn't he remember him?! 

It made no sense. It made _no damn sense_. 

Damian grumbled under his breath, scanning through old case files from since he became Robin to the present. 

He found nothing useful. 

Frustrated, he shut off the computer and stalked up back to his room. There Damian turned on the bedside lamp, pulling out his sketchbook, a piece of charcoal and white conte. He started sketching the face of the boy from his dream, rendering as many details as he could possibly remember.

Time got away from him, and several hours later when his alarm went off signaling it was time for prayer, Damian had created a nearly photorealistic drawing. He looked at it for a moment, hoping perhaps the image would bring forth some hidden memory. 

It didn't. It only made Damian more frustrated than he was before. Damian growled, snapping the sketchbook shut (though not roughly enough to damage the drawing) and went to pray.

 

If Damian had deep bags under his eyes for the rest of the day, then either no one noticed or they simply didn’t comment. Or perhaps they did, but Damian was so absorbed in his own thoughts all day he may have not noticed (though it was unlikely). The sketchbook with the drawing in it was kept tucked under his arm all day at school, looking at it occasionally to remind himself that he really did dream of that boy, and hadn’t simply imagined it in his sleep-deprived state. Once, one of his classmates saw it over his shoulder and asked him unrelentingly to look through his sketchbook. He said no, of course, but by the time she actually got the message he had made her run away crying. Damian hoped she wouldn’t tell a teacher, and that that teacher wouldn’t tell his father, because the last thing he needed now or ever was for father to give him trouble over the fact that he still hated his classmates and had no friends there. What he needed was to be done with all this damn dream business, because he felt like if he didn’t figure out the identity of that boy he’d go mad.

He didn’t bring the sketchbook with him when he went to check in at the Titan’s headquarters and him and Jon’s base (he still refused to call it the Fortress of Attitude) as it would get in the way, but Raven still sensed he was off, distracted. She gave him a look as if to ask what was wrong, but he merely brushed her off with a shrug. He didn’t need anyone delving into his personal business.

At least while even though he and Jon were growing closer, the younger boy still didn’t know him well enough to tell when anything was different about him. If it was Damian’s usual snark or if there was more to it than that. Jon actually insisted they do their homework together, and Damian made a point by finishing all of his in a matter of minutes, then refusing to help Jon with his long division.

That night on patrol father definitely noticed there was something on his mind, but in his typical Bruce-like way of Avoiding Communication At All Costs it was never brought up. 

Patrol was largely uneventful except for a fight they had with Bane. As they took down the rogue Damian couldn’t help but think the way that the venom caused Bane to swell up into a giant behemoth was strangely familiar. And not just because he had encountered Bane before. It was something else for sure, and it made Damian even more lost in thought when they returned to the cave that night. Thoughts of the dream boy plagued him all the way through writing his report, to changing out of uniform, and all the way up into the manor. In the kitchen where he had his tea (decaffeinated, obviously) and as he made his way to his room at almost two am. Damian frowned as he pulled the covers up, idly petting his cat. 

“I don't understand it, Alfred.” He said. “Yesterday I was fine, then I have one dream and suddenly it consumes me completely? It makes no sense.” 

Alfred just purred in response, pushing his head further into Damian's hand. 

“I know, it is unlike me to be so unfocused.” Damian reached over and opened the sketchbook again, staring down at the drawing like it held all the answers. 

“And why now? I mean, Colin’s been missing for years.” Suddenly his eyes widened and he leapt up, realizing what he just said. 

“Colin's been missing for years!” He repeated, louder this time. Suddenly Damian was being flooded with more and more lost memories and he threw the covers off him, launching himself out of bed and out the door. He ran down the hall and all the way down to the cave, not even caring if he was seen or heard. He had more important things to concern himself with. 

He turned on the computer and immediately started hacking into Gotham City Police’s database. It took less than a minute and soon Damian was combing through old missing persons reports. He found the one he was looking for and…

Was immediately disappointed. 

The report was there, like he knew it would be. He filed it himself, after all. He remembered. But in all the three years since Colin had disappeared, there was no sign of any further investigation. Just a memo attached saying… prank- not a real person?

What was the meaning of this? Colin was a real person, Damian remembered him! He remembered meeting him, and taking down that ring with him, and going on patrol with him, and being friends with him! 

A little more digging proved the situation even more frustrating than before. Not only did the police not have any record of the boy ever existing, but neither did child services, or any of the hospitals Colin had ever been to. But surely, surely Batman would have something on him on the computer. 

He searched through their own case files, with the keyword tag Colin Wilkes. A few files came up, but they were all corrupted. 

Damian wanted to scream. How the hell were the files corrupted?! On the damn _Batcomputer_!? And only the ones that featured Colin? 

There was something bigger going on here. He was sure of it. While he ran a program in the background to try and recover the corrupted files, Damian switched back to the GCPD system, looking for more unpursued missing persons reports. 

He found… _way_ too many to be normal. Nearly three hundred of them, and they all had the same memo as was attached to Colin's file, as well as other connections. 

They were all children, from as young as toddlers to no older than ten. Now _that_ was suspicious. Damian looked through school rosters, hospital registers, and child services systems again, looking for any of the missing children. Like Colin, there was no trace of them other than the abandoned missing persons reports. Damian frowned. Not only had children been disappearing all over Gotham for over eight years but no one was doing anything about it. No one was even noticing, not the police, not him, not even his father. 

It seemed as though each time a child disappeared any and all evidence of their existence disappeared with them. 

Damian was pulled from his thoughts by the computer chiming, signaling that it was done recovering the files. Quickly he opened the first one, reading through it quickly. It was from four years ago, when his father saved Colin from scarecrow. He remembered hearing about this from Colin, but he had said he didn’t like to talk about it and Damian never bothered searching for the report details.

_“No, thanks, I’ve actually already met your dad.”_

_Damian quirked an eyebrow. “Really? When?” Colin shuffled his feet nervously. “When, uh, when I got the venom, last year. He kinda saved me. And I know I should be grateful and all, and I am, but I don’t really wanna see your dad. He’s scary.”_

_Damian laughed. “Of course he’s scary, he’s **Batman**.”_

Damian smiled, then quickly shook it away, remembering his task. Colin was missing, had been for a long time, and Damian had neglected to find him sooner, because for some reason he had completely forgotten he had even existed. Until now.

He had a lot of lost time to make up for.


	2. Skipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian has bigger things to worry about than going to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to be like twice as long but I cut it in half bc im the writer and i can do that if i want to. I have all the power. God is shook

Damian checked the time again as he stood impatiently by the printer, waiting for all the necessary files to finish printing. It was already nearing dawn, and Damian would have to return to his room before then if he didn't want to garner suspicion. If only this damn printer wouldn't keep running out of paper. It wasn't Damian’s fault he had over three hundred things to print.

He dragged a hand down his face, exhausted. He hadn't slept all night, instead trying to find leads on where these children could have gone and who could have taken them.

Why no one bothered looking. Why no one remembered to.

Damian scowled for not the first time that night (or morning, now) and not the last either. If he had remembered sooner, if he hadn't forgotten in the first place… surely Colin wouldn't still be missing, none of these kids would. He wouldn't fault a citizen for falling into the plot set up by whoever, or whatever, did this, they were mere citizens after all. But him? It was shameful.

Damian pulled himself out of that line of thought before it could go to far. Grayson often told him there was no use kicking oneself over past mistakes, especially ones you couldn't control, because you can't change them and brooding doesn't solve problems.

“Tt. Grayson ought to follow his own advice.” Damian said to himself, thinking of all the times Dick had been caught being as full of angst as the rest of them. “He is right, though. Blaming myself won't help me find Colin faster.” Damian tilted his head back, staring into the dark abyss that held the cave’s ceiling, somewhere. What would help him find Colin was investigation, determination and focus.

Damian huffed, grabbing a voice modulator of a nearby shelf of equipment. This mission would have to be top priority. He did currently have a drug ring he had been working on busting recently, but Damian was confident he could manipulate Drake into taking over. School would have to wait as well. A majority of his investigation would be best conducted in the daytime, and it's not like he really needed to go to class anyway. Besides, Damian had only been warned against unexcused absences, and as far the school was concerned these absences would be perfectly valid. Father would understand.

Damian pulled out his phone and left a message on the school’s attendance line.

_‘He just… doesn't need to know.’_

~~~~~~~~~

“Are you ready to leave, Master Damian?” Alfred said, standing by the front door, waiting to take Damian to school.

“Of course, Pennyworth. Let’s go.” Damian said, pushing past Alfred and out the door. Alfred gave him a look like he was completely aware that there were no actual books Damian's book bag, and that he was also completely aware Damian had no intention of going to school. Damian shrugged it off. It was likely he was, nothing happened in the manor without Alfred knowing, but so long as the old butler didn't mention anything then there was no problem.

Alfred let Damian off in front of the school, and Damian waited till the car was out of sight before running in the opposite direction of the front doors. Instead he went to the bus station, getting on the first one towards Gotham. It wasn't the most time efficient, but it would work for now. He’d have to be back in metropolis to make it seem like he had been in school the whole time, but he still had a good four hours to investigate, and then he could continue after Alfred picked him up, too.

Damian sighed, looking out the window as the bus started moving. He really shouldn’t be risking getting fired by skipping school, but…

Ha had already wasted three whole years. Three whole years Colin was out there somewhere, while the rest of the world forgot he existed. Damian didn’t care if he had to give up robin because of this. This mission, Colin was more important.

And this time, he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Forty minutes later when he arrived back in Gotham the first thing he did was change into his robin uniform. Damian took a deep breath, then dashed away towards his first lead. The most recent missing child had been reported missing by the mother, who lived in a ratty apartment on the east end. She was unemployed, and had been convicted of felonies before, but nothing more severe than drunk and disorderly. Chances are she’d be at home, and Damian would be free to speak to her, provided she even remembered her own child.

He climbed in through the window into the living room. The masked vigilante looked around the apartment, taking in the stink of cigarettes and the scattered empty bottles, as well as the general filth and clutter. Likely an alcoholic, and very obvious hoarding. Great.

That was another link between the missing children. He hadn’t found anything by searching the names of the children, obviously, but looking into the people that actually reported them missing proved to be far more useful, and based on the information he found all the kids had had a notable lack of privilege in common. Lots of orphans, some had been reported by neighbours, or babysitters, or friends, or even corner store owners who had noticed the little kid who came by for milk every week had stopped showing up.

Damian looked up to see a woman stumbling out of her kitchen. She must have been the Candace Ducreux he was looking for. She was wearing dirty sweatpants and a bathrobe, and looked like she hadn’t bathed or brushed her hair in weeks. Damian couldn’t tell if she was such a mess because she missed her child, or if this was just how she lived. But then, Joey Ducreux had only been missing for a week and a half, and she had obviously been like this for longer.

Finally Ms. Ducreux spotted him standing there, and screamed, jumping almost a foot in the air.

“Ma’am! Please, calm yourself!” Damian yelled, cutting off her shrieking. “I just need to ask you some questions about your son.”

The woman looked at him, confused. “Son? I don’t have a son.”

Damian scowled. Dammit. “Yes, you do.” He pulled out the missing persons report. “Don’t you remember filing this? Your son Joey went missing a week an a half ago. You went to the police about it.”

Ms. Ducreux scowled. “I never filed that police report and I’ve never had a son. I’ve been alone my whole life, now get the hell out of my apartment, you damn batkid!”

“Ma’am-”

“I’m serious!” She shrieked, launching an empty beer bottle at his head. He dodged it easily, and it shattered on the wall behind him. “Get out!”

Damian couldn't do much more than oblige.

:::::::::::::::::

The next several leads weren't any help either. None of them remembered ever knowing any of the children, whether they were theirs or not, and Robin got chased out of more than a few locations. He growled to himself, kicking an empty soda can across the alley. This was the last lead he had time to interview before he moved on, and if he was faced with even one more dead end he'd burst a blood vessel.

Finally he came upon the backdoor of the restaurant where his lead worked. It could hardly even be classified as a restaurant, since it was a run-down Denny's in the filthiest sector of Gotham, with a hole in the wall covered by only a tarp and several other health code violations that Damian could see with only an initial glance. He pushed his way inside, coming into a bustling kitchen. He wound his way through and around the other workers there, who barely paid him any mind, until he came upon the chef he was looking for.

“Verònica García.” Damian says, grabbing the attention of a petite woman working diligently at the stove. “I need to speak with you.”

The woman in question peered over her shoulder, raising a contemptuous eyebrow at the young vigilante behind her. She didn't stop working as she spoke. “Can it wait, Kid Bird?” She said. “I’m busy.”

Damian crossed his arms. “No. I only need to ask you one question.”

“Okay, fine. Ask.”

“Do you remember your sister, Maria García?”

Verònica dropped the pot she was working in, whipping around to face him.

“Of course I do! What the hell kind of question is that!”

Damian threw his hands up, crying out in relief. “By Allah, finally! When does your shift end?”

“At eleven, why? What do you know about my sister?”

Damian just started walking out. “Meet me in the back alley when your shift is done, I'll tell you then.”

He repressed a grin as he left the restaurant. Finally, progress. Finally, someone else who remembered. Maybe the situation wasn't as hopeless as he thought.

::::::::::::::::::

“Did you have a good day at school, Master Damian?” Alfred asked as Damian climbed in the backseat of the car at three thirty pm, sharp.

“It was fine, Pennyworth.”

Alfred raised a knowing eyebrow at him in the mirror. “And I assume whatever you did was of higher importance than class, yes?”

Damian inwardly cursed. Nothing escaped Alfred. Alfred smirked.

“Don't worry, Master Damian, I won't tell Master Bruce. Just be safe, understand?”

Damian nodded, flushing slightly.

He was fine.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

“Why weren’t you at school today?”

“I was.”

“No you weren’t! I never saw you there.”

“Perhaps you should get your eyes checked.”

“Damian, I have _super--_ ”

“Lay off it, Jon.”

“Fine.”

…

“So, _now_ will you help me with my long division?”

“No, do it yourself.”


	3. Rory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian thinks he might finally have a lead, and is also secretly a sentimental f o o l

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to be much longer, but it just seemed right to end it where I did. Next chapter's gonna be even longer to make up for it, though
> 
> Also I was originally going to write this weird bonding moment with Dami and Veronica where he does promise do bring her sister back but then I was like, no. He's meaner than that.

“You’re late.”

Verònica García jumped, startled by the sudden, sharp voice from above her. She narrowed her eyes at the young vigilante as he jumped down next to her.

“I am not late. It’s only four after.”

Damian crossed his arms. “Four after is still four minutes late.”

“Whatever.” Verònica rolled her eyes. “Now what do you have to tell me about my sister?”

“Actually, it’s more what you can tell me. You see,” Damian reached into a bag and pulled out easily one of the fattest file folders she had ever seen. “Hundreds of young children have been disappearing, without a trace, in this part of Gotham for nearly eight years. Your sister is one of them. What sets these disappearances apart from other cases is that once the child is gone, any evidence of them ever existing goes too. Even those who reported the kids missing don’t remember doing it.”

“...Oh.”

“Yes, so tell me, García, how and when did you remember Maria?”

Verònica looked down.

“I… don’t know, really. Maria went missing a month ago, and I just forgot her till the other day, when I found her old doll in our apartment.” She buried her face in her hands. “I feel horrible for forgetting her. She's all I have.”

“Hn. Walk with me, García.” Damian said, marching out of the alley, Verònica close behind. “Tell me everything you can about your sister. Yours and her schedule, what happened the day she disappeared, everything.”

So she did. Verònica told him about how she worked at Denny’s to pay the bills but she and Maria wanted to start their own restaurant. Where Maria went to school and when she went to soccer practice, and the summer program at the public library. How Maria had left the apartment to return books and hadn't come back.

How Verònica went to look for her when it got late.

How she found the books.

How she hadn't found Maria.

Damian hummed. “Show me where you found the books.”

So Verònica led him away quite a few blocks, to a corner that was apparently halfway between their building and the library.

“They were one the ground, right here.”

Damian looked around, examining the area. Most of the nearby buildings were run down, and were probably officially abandoned although there appeared to be many homeless people lingering about. There were a couple of storefronts that seemed to still be in business, including a tattoo parlour and a corner store, directly next to them.

“Do you and your sister frequent that store?”

Verònica blinked. “Um, yes.”

Damian furrowed his brow, flipping through the files he was carrying. “That will be all, Garcia. You may go, now.”

“I- wait, what?”

“You may leave. I have all the information I need from you.”

Verònica sighed. “I… fine. But first, will you just… promise me you’ll bring my sister back? Safe? She’s all I have.”

Damian didn’t look at her. “You know I can’t realistically promise that, Garcia. Now go.”

Verònica looked down, wrapping her arms around herself and turning away. “Right.” She said. Then she walked away.

Damian sighed. He knew that was probably cruel, but he didn’t feel bad.

Actually, no, he did feel bad.

But really he just felt bad about not feeling bad.

It was a strange feeling.

He shook it off, marching across the street to speak with the homeless people gathered there. They had to have seen something.

::::::::::::::::::::::

The orphanage was silent when Damian crept in, through Colin’s window because it was the spot he knew best. He threw a few glances around the room, silent so as not to wake the sleeping children. There were four beds, and Damian’s eye moved automatically to Colin’s.

There was someone else sleeping in it, now. Damian tried not to be too disappointed.

The halls were dark as he snuck through them, looking for any kind of offices or storage area. If he were to find physical evidence of Colin’s existence, it’d be here. Eventually he did come across an office of sorts, and picking the flimsy lock was no issue. Inside was a desk, with a computer, papers and pens strewn across the surface. In the corner were cardboard boxes filing cabinets, enough that it looked as though they still had records of every child that had ever stayed there.

Perfect.

A few minutes of careful rifling later and Damian found the exact file folder he was looking for. He pulled it out with a sigh of relief, flipping through the pages.

There were many. The file was quite large.

He was just turning to leave when the label on one of the old boxes caught his eye, causing him to pause in his step.

_‘Old Toys’_

Unsure of what had come over him, Damian stepped over and began digging through the box as quietly as possible. In it he found some old dolls, including more than one barbie with no hair, a frayed jump rope, and there, nearly at the bottom…

Damian wasn’t as familiar with it, didn’t even remember the ratty old bear’s name, but… Colin might like to have it back, if- _no, when_ \- Damian found him.

And so, with the stuffed bear and thick file folder tucked under his arm, Damian left St. Aden’s without incident.


	4. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made! Emotions are flying high and lo and behold! Fights! Treachery! Betrayal! Snitching! Friendships on the line, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole thing listening to Shut up and dance from Victorious 
> 
> *TW contains a parent and child fighting and theres mention of dudes destroying stuff out of anger idk if anyone gets triggered by that but it can be a problem for me sometimes so just a heads up*

Damian was certain that for the first several months children started to go missing, the victims were all connected to a certain small community center in the area they all lived. But that was years ago and the center had closed down since. Lack of funding, apparently. For a while after that it was a parking garage on the opposite side of the city. Then there was an old bakery, and later a park. For the last four months, it was the corner that Garcia showed him.

Whether it was on their route to school, or the library, or they just lived in the area, or, in the case of more than a few children, meant to be fetching something from that store, they were all likely to have crossed that corner around the time of their disappearance. Which, according to Damian, had to mean whoever or whatever was taking the children was operating out of the nearby buildings. They seemed to move their base every few months, probably so as not to garner suspicion, and Damian was running out of time before they moved again.

If they moved again then Damian would have to wait even longer for more kids to go missing, and that meant longer till Colin was found. 

And that was something Damian couldn’t afford.

The group of homeless people had been largely unhelpful and claimed to have not seen anything. Damian believe them. This was already a strange case it it was most likely their minds had been wiped same as everyone else's. He still gave them each a hundred dollars for their trouble, and no it wasn’t because he was actually trying to develop empathy for other human beings, absolutely not, it’s just what Grayson would have done. Shut up.

Damian spent days staking out that corner, keeping an eye on every building on the street. He suspected the corner store the most, since Maria Garcia’s books had apparently been dropped directly in front of it, and the other store fronts had done nothing as of yet to draw his suspicion. The store itself was run by an elderly Italian couple, who, from what Damian had gathered, didn’t seem like the type to kidnap hundreds of children for purposes not yet determined. The most likely case was that the owners weren’t the actual kidnappers, but that they were being forced to let the real criminals operate their via either threats or bribery. 

He knew that the store had a vast basement. He knew there was logically no way that was where they were keeping the children. It had to be a temporary. The kidnappers had to be moving them somewhere else, their main base. It was still afternoon at the moment, and far too busy, but tonight Damian would sneak in and look around. All he needed was one more clue, one little piece of information, then he’d find the base, and the kids, and Colin. He was so close. _So--_

“ _Robin._ ” 

Oh. Oh _no_.

Damian turned around slowly, drawing the movement out as long as he could get away with. He could feel an awful pit of cold dread settling in his stomach, but he didn’t let it show. He had done everything perfectly, he’d been careful! So how? How did he find out? How did-

“Father.” 

The sight of the Batman out in broad daylight was certainly a strange one, but the lack of surrounding darkness did nothing to lessen the effect of the infamous Batglare. The Batglare that was currently being leveled directly at Damian. Bruce didn’t say anything for a minute, just letting the waves of fury wash over Damian, who resisted the urge to squirm. 

He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that he knew exactly why his father was so angry with him. He was in the wrong, he broke the rule, but he’d be damned if that stopped him from standing his ground. Eventually Bruce turned and marched away, and Damian knew to follow. Resisting would only make it worse. As the pair silently climbed into the batmobile, Damian tried not to think too hard about what he might be about to lose. 

_Any unexcused absences and you’re fired. No more HQ, no more robin._

Finally they reached the cave, and Damian immediately got out of the car to see Alfred waiting for them with- Superman?! 

What the _hell?!_

“Damian, _explain yourself_.” Bruce growled before Damian could escape. Damian cursed to himself. 

“What is the alien doing here!” 

This time, Alfred responded. “Mister Kent helped us locate you.” Damian growled. 

“We were just worried about you, son.” Clark said. 

“What the hell’s gotten into you, Damian?” Bruce cut in, seething with quiet rage, as though he hadn’t noticed Clark trying to take a gentler approach. “I told you the consequences for skipping school, and now I hear you haven’t been going for over a week!” 

“You do not understand, father!” Damian yelled, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “Going to school does me no good! I hate it, and I hate the teachers, and I hate the students, and this investigation is worth far more than than _anything_ right now—“ but he was cut off when his father spoke again. 

“Well I sure as hell hope it was worth it, because-“

“Father _no_ -“

“You’re _fired_ , Damian!” 

“ _Father!_ ” 

“Bruce, maybe this isn’t-“ Bruce ignored Clark, instead keeping his focus on his son. 

“Go hang up your cape, Damian.” 

Damian could feel tears pricking his eyes behind the mask. He took a deep, shuddering breath, stealing himself, before planting his feet and looking Bruce dead in the eye. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No!” Damian cried. “I will not give up now, not when I’m so close, not when there are so many lives on the line!” 

“Damian Wayne, you listen to me right now-“ 

“ _NO!_ ” Damian screeched. Before anyone could say anything else or even blink, he bolted, jumping onto his bike. And before Bruce could catch him, he sped off and out of the cave. 

Bruce was about to go after him, but a solid hand on his shoulder stopped him. He didn’t bother fighting it, it would just be both futile and embarrassing. 

“Let me go, Clark.” He growled, using The Batman Voice. 

Clark turned him around to face him. “Let him go, Bruce. You both need to cool down before any rash decisions are made.” He said sternly. Alfred approached them then, ever the paragon of eternal patience.

“Sir, if I may have a word…”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

To say the teen titans were worried when they were called to Gotham by an emergency signal from one of their team was an understatement. Robin hated reaching out to them, even when it was an emergency situation. 

The coordinates they were sent turned out to be what was likely a bat’s safe house. The security mechanisms turned off when they arrived, and the group found Robin sitting at a table inside, head in his hands. There were papers and files strewn about in front of him, as well as a sketchbook and what must have been pieces of evidence. The room around him was completely destroyed, as if someone had come in and trashed everything in a fit of anger. The younger boy didn’t even look up when they approached him.

“Damian?” Gar said gently. “Are you… is everything okay?” 

“Nothing is ‘okay’, Beast Boy.” Damian mumbled, voice rough. He finally looked up at them, and the others were shocked to see his eyes red rimmed and tear tracks on his cheeks. “Everything is _wrong_ and I need your help.” 

The Teen Titans all shared looks over Damian’s head, unsure of how to react. They had never seen him so vulnerable or even this openly emotional. 

“Robin, what happened?” Asked Koriand’r. 

“Does it have anything to do with all these missing kids?” Added Wally. Robin nodded. 

“For the past week I have been conducting this investigation instead of going to school. Father fired me because if it.” He said miserably. Jackson did a double take. 

“Wait- Batman _fired_ you for skipping school?” 

“Dude, that’s really harsh.” Said Gar.

Damian stood abruptly, staring them all down. “Yes,” he said. “But I will not let that stop me from finishing this, not when I am so close! It is my fault these children are still missing and it is my responsibility to find them before it is too late!” Damian sighed. “I originally did not want to call on you all for this, since it is my burden, but now it may be necessary.” 

The group shared another look, deciding almost simultaneously to let Damian deflect any more emotional discussion, at least for now. 

“Okay,” Said Raven, looking at the files. “What do we have to do?”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sneaking a group of super powered teens and young adults (and one adult-adult) into the corner store undetected was unsurprisingly easy, even if they weren’t the most inconspicuous looking group. By that point the time had moved into ‘late afternoon’, and Robin stressed that perhaps the kidnappers had already gone in the few hours he had been away. It was unlikely, but still plausible enough to make Robin anxious about what they may or may not find. 

Beast Boy was on perimeter lookout while Raven and Wally kept an eye on the store owners. The others crept into the basement, turned on the lights, and found… nothing. 

There was nothing there. Starfire, Aqualad, and Robin all searched as thoroughly as possible, growing more and more frustrated as the minutes wore on. No evidence, no clues, no leads. Damian shouted wordlessly, kicking a crate. Starfire and Aqualad were about to stop him from wreckinging more stuff when Beast Boy’s voice came in over the coms. 

“Hey, Robin, you uh, got a visitor.” 

Damian frowned in confusion. 

“Who?” 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“ _You!_ ”

“I’m sorry!” Jon cried, throwing his hands out in front of him. “I didn’t think you’d get in so much trouble!” 

“You imbecile!” Damian shouted at the other boy. The rest of the teen titans watched uncomfortably as they continued yelling at each other. “You need to learn to mind your own business!”

They were all standing by the back door of the store. Apparently Jon had come to find Damian and apologize for telling his parents Damian hadn’t been at school, who then told Bruce. 

Damian was having none of it. 

“I was worried about you!” 

“You betrayed me! This is all _your_ fault, Superboy! I _lost Robin_ because of you!” Damian started pacing. “And now I am no closer to finding any of the missing children, no closer to finding _Colin_ than when this whole mess started!” 

“What?” 

“I thought if I could just find him, and be done with this, then- then father would understand! He would see how important this was! But now there is no Colin, and no Robin, and this has all been for nothing!” Damian threw his hands up, storming off and around the corner. 

“Who’s Colin?”

Damian ignored him. 

“You have ruined _everything_ , Jon!”

Jon moved to run after Damian, turning the corner as well. “Robin, wai-“ he started to say, but was cut off suddenly, mid-word. 

Superboy was gone. 

“...What the hell just happened?” Aqualad said to no one in particular, staring at the spot where Jon just was. 

“Dude, he just… disappeared!” Beast Boy said in disbelief. 

“Oh, Superboy…” Starfire gasped softly, worried about their young friend and just as confused as the rest of them. 

“Wait…” Damian stroked his chin in thought, anger momentarily forgotten (it would be back later with a vengeance, though). Then he gasped, finally putting it all together. It was the right place, Jon was no older than ten... “Of course! The children are not disappearing from the store, they are disappearing from right in front of it!” 

He pointed to where Jon had been standing. “This is the exact spot Maria Garcia’s books were found, as well! I always figured there was a magic user involved, but I never thought… something of this scale…” 

He turned to Raven suddenly. “Raven!” He said. “You can perform a simple locating spell, can you not?”

Raven nodded. “I can.” 

Damian smirked. “Good. Then let’s find Superboy.” 

:::::::::: Meanwhile, back at the batcave ::::::::::::::

“Sir, if I may have a word?”

Bruce sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. “You knew about this, didn’t you, Alfred.” 

Alfred hummed. “Yes, sir. Would you like to hear why I allowed it?” 

Bruce sighed again. “Sure.” 

“Master Bruce, you know that even if he does dislike going to school, Damian is not one to take his responsibilities lightly. This include both his studies and his role as robin, which one might argue he takes more seriously than anything else.”

Bruce nodded. Alfred was right, he did know that. 

Alfred continued. “And so that means that whatever investigation he’s been conducting truly is more important to him than that responsibility, and maybe even more important than being Robin. Or at least, important enough for him to risk losing robin for it.” 

Bruce grunted. 

“He would not have disobeyed you in this way if that were not the case.” 

Bruce grunted again. Alfred was right, as always. It got kind of frustrating, sometimes. 

“Taking this all into account, sir, If I were you, I would carefully consider what you plan to say next time you see your son.”

Bruce sighed for the third time as Alfred walked away and up into the manor. He turned to look at Clark, who squeezed his shoulder and smiled comfortingly.

_‘What am I going to do with that boy?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about damn time I updated this! Ooh, rising action! I've just got one or two, MAYBE three chapter left. 
> 
> Also, I'm not terribly familiar with Raven's character and abilities and i wasn't a hundred percent posotive a locating spell would be in her repertoire but on her wiki page it said she can perform basic spells and shit so you know what? It's sort of integral to the plot, so I don't care, I'm the writer, I can do what I want. Don't yell at me


	5. The Lair pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo........ this was originally gonna be WAY longer bc I wanted to keep the Colin POV stuff all in one chapter but it just wasn't happening... it was so long... there was so much... So I cut it in half basically. Here's part one of The Lair
> 
> TW child death and torture yikes.... I swear I didn't mean for it to get this upsetting...

September 24, 2014. 10:24 pm. 

Colin hummed happily to himself, skipping down the street towards the garage that held his bike. He and Damian were going to patrol together that night, which Colin was really excited about because they didn’t get to do it often. 

(Although that was a little biased, because they actually patrolled together at least a few times each week, and that hardly counted at “not often”, but Colin would rather they did it every night. Damian was his best friend, after all. Had been for _five months_ now).

Colin smiled, kicking a rock across the street. Maybe he and Dames could turn the garage into like, a little clubhouse or something, then they could hang out there whenever they wanted, and have sleepovers. They couldn’t really do much like that as is, since Colin had a lot of weird anxiety about going in the manor (something about clumsiness and expensive objects) and the orphanage didn’t exactly have room to host play dates (they were already over capacity anyway). 

Hey, maybe they could turn the garage into a clubhouse and then live there! Then they’d never have to worry about adults ever again! And Dames’ butler could come over to visit and cook food for them because he was really cool and nice and also a really good cook. 

And also because he and Damian were ten for Pete’s sake. Colin had tried, but still couldn’t cook for the life of him and he didn’t think Damian could either. Maybe they could ask Mr. Pennyworth to clean for them too. 

Well, that was that! Colin thought eagerly as he crossed the street, passing the little pastry shop on the corner. Once he met up with Dames he’d ask him if they could turn the garage into a clubhouse. They’d need blankets, obviously, as well as pillows and snacks, and he could bring Rory, and-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Darkness. 

Cold. 

What?

It took Colin a moment to realize it was dark because his eyes were closed, and cold because he was laying on a smooth stone floor. He quickly sat up and opened his eyes, but immediately regretted it when his vision swam and his head started to pound. 

“Whuh…?” He mumbled, gripping his head and trying his best to look at his surroundings. It looked like he was in some sort of dungeon, with smooth black stone walls and floors and no windows. It was noticeably chilly, and there was just enough light to see although Colin couldn’t make out the source. And there, huddled in the corner-

“Hey!” He said, headache momentarily forgotten. “Wh- Christie Johnson? Jude Carlsen? What are you guys doing here?” He looked around again, then looked back at the two younger girls he recognized from the orphanage. They were huddled together in a group of maybe twenty to thirty other kids, and their clothes were dirty, like they hadn’t changed them in a week. That was weird. He hadn’t even noticed the two girls were missing. 

“Actually, wait, how did _I_ get here?” 

One of the other kids that he didn’t recognize spoke. “You got caught by the Witch.” The boy said softly. Colin frowned in confusion. 

“The Witch?” He said. “But last I remember I was going to- over to my friend’s house.” 

This time it was a girl who spoke. “Did you go past the bakery?”

“I- Yeah.” 

The girl nodded. “That’s where the trap is.”

Colin scooted closer to the group. 

“Trap? Witch?” 

The boy who spoke to him first spoke again. “The Witch. She catches little kids and then- and then-“ 

“She eats them!” Cried a kid in the back. 

“She sucks your soul out and then cooks you into stew!” 

“Most kids don’t last more than a few weeks.” The first boy said somberly. “I’m sorry that this is your fate now.” 

“I’m sorry god has abandoned you.” Said a girl. 

Colin blanched. “What- no! No, no way! We’re gonna get out of here!” 

The first boy shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. “No we’re not. You can’t fight the witch.” 

“Yeah, we are!” Colin said. “You know why? Because I’m friends with Robin, and once he realizes I’m missing he’ll come and he’ll save all of us! You’ll see!” 

Gasps and murmurs echoes throughout the room. 

_“Robin?”_

_“No way.”_

_“Robin's gonna save us?”_

_“No, he can’t.”_

_“Robin can do anything!”_

“Are you really friends with Robin?” 

Colin nodded, smug. “Best friends.” 

“We’re really gonna get rescued?” 

Colin nodded again. Suddenly the boy grinned, and the other kids followed suit. “We’re gonna get rescued!” The kids all laughed and cheered, glad to have finally been given some hope in the cold, dark dungeon. 

Suddenly a door that Colin hadn’t noticed before banged open, and the children found themselves frozen in fear. 

The room became washed in a sinister red-orange glow, broken only by the long shadow of… oh, god. 

That wasn’t a witch. That was a _monster_. 

She was tall, taller than any human had a right to be, with abnormally thin, long limbs and abnormally thin, long fingers and abnormally thin, long nails. Her back was skinny and bony and hunched so that its long neck curved down and up in a disturbing parabolic shape. She had a tall, eerie mouth stretched into a menacing grin, with sharp teeth interspersed along grey, slimy gums. Glowing, bulging yellow eyes leered at them through long, greasy strands of hair, parted around its long, sharp nose. Hanging off the witch's body were old robes, dirty and baggy and looking like they had been worn for literally hundreds of years. 

She shuffled towards the petrified group of children, reaching out with one spindly arm and plucking one out from the middle of the throng. 

The child, who Colin hadn’t been introduced to, was shaking and crying silently, jarring where before they had been sitting still and seemingly devoid of emotion, then happy and smiling. The witch dragged them out of the strange dungeon and through the doorway she had come in. The door slammed shut, plunging the room into silent darkness again as if nothing even happened. 

A couple hours passed. The cheer of before had been drained out. The child that had been taken away hadn’t come back yet. They probably weren’t going to. 

A couple more hours passed and Colin tried to take a nap. He couldn’t sleep. He wondered if Damian was worried about him, If he was already looking for him. He hoped so. 

A couple more hours passed and Colin had no idea what time it was or if it was the next day yet. There was no way to tell the passage of time in the dungeon, the dim light never shifted or changed and Colin still couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. 

He and the boy who spoke to him before talked for a little bit about anything other than their current situation. They chatted like their lives were normal and they weren’t on death row in some creepy magical dungeon. 

They boy, whose name he said was Ben, talked about how he was going to a new school that year. The kids were mostly nice, apparently, but his math teacher was a little harsh. Colin mostly told him about Robin, careful not to accidentally give away his identity. He talked about how Robin was kinda mean on the outside but pretty nice on the inside, but pretended to be mean on the inside too except that act failed anytime they came across any stray animals and how that was kinda funny to Colin. He mentioned that when they were rescued, Colin wanted to ask Damian about making a clubhouse, and Ben said that that sounded fun. 

Days passed. The witch came in again, taking another child very much the same way she did when Colin first showed up. This time, the child was spat back out into the room soon after, weak and shaking. It didn’t seem like they’d last much longer. 

Days turned into weeks. Colin almost constantly fought the urge to transform into abuse, to fight the witch, to save these kids himself- but he couldn’t. Even when he was being dragged into the witches kitchen, he couldn’t. Damian had talked to him a few times about scoping out the situation, not taking on more than you can handle, and not doing anything that could compromise your identity. Which wasn’t something that Colin really cared that much about, but Damian insisted it was important. The fact was, even if Colin did fight the witch, he’d never win. She was stronger than him, and had magic. He’d never even stand a chance. 

There wasn’t much fighting to do when the life was being drained out of you, anyway. The witch had only fed off Colin once so far, and it was maybe the worst thing he had ever felt. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to shake the feeling of those fingers curling around his body and lifting him up into the air, into that hot, hot kitchen. Of being thrown on a table like a piece of meat and feeling that heinous creature draw out his life force like it was a physical thing she had the right to just take. Colin felt nauseous for a long time after that, but it never amounted to anything. 

He hoped Damian would find him soon. 

A couple of weeks turned into a month. Children came and went. Colin still remembered when Ben had been taken in and hadn’t come back out. He was certainly dead. So were the girls from the orphanage and the little girl who only talked about god. Most of the kids who had been there when Colin first arrived were dead now. There were new children there. Colin still kept telling them about his friend Robin, that Robin was gonna save them. 

He had to. 

Colin could feel himself getting weaker and weaker. The witch had already fed off him a few times and Colin didn’t know if he’d make it a fourth time. He just had to keep up hope that Damian would find him in time. He had to have been gone for a long while, now, surely Damian was getting close. Surely. 

Because if Damian didn’t come for him, then he didn’t know what he’d do. 

It had been almost a week since the witch fed last, off a ridiculously young kid who came back, but only barely. They all knew the witch would come back in soon. They just didn’t know who’d be the victim this time. In the corner, two kids were holding each other and crying, seeking comfort anywhere they could find it. Missing their parents, apparently. 

Colin couldn’t relate, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as lonely and scared as the rest of them. Still, Colin tried to comfort the others. Robin will save us, he told them. He’ll come soon, I know it, he said. 

He was pulled out of his head when the door was thrown open again. He didn’t even flinch time. The witch crept in, peering about the group of children like she didn’t just take one randomly every time. Colin and everyone else found themselves frozen again. He figured it was another sort of weird spell, so the kids couldn’t fight back or try to run or anything.

Colin wished he could move. Fight back. Run. Just get away somehow. 

But he couldn’t. The witch crept closer, stretching out one arm and picking him up. 

Colin wanted to cry.

_No… no, no, no! Not yet! I can’t… I won’t last much longer… Damian… no!_

Colin screamed in his mind as if someone would hear him and swoop in at the last second. But even Superman couldn’t hear people’s thoughts, and no one came to stop the witch from dragging Colin into the kitchen.

No one came.

He was thrown down onto the table once more, feeling sudden pain shooting up through his legs. The witch came over, grinning at him saying a few words in a language he didn’t understand. She waved a hand over his chest, and Colin arched his back painfully with the motion. He could feel the energy being drained from him, could feel it coursing through his veins… no, wait. Wait! That wasn’t energy, that was… oh god…

Colin screamed, writhing on the table as his body forced itself to transform, the venom kicking in as his last defense mechanism. He felt himself growing, stretching out, too fast, everything was happening too fast- Colin screamed again. He could feel his bones crunching and pulling, tendons stretching, muscles swelling and veins bulging as his body was pushed to the limit. 

Somewhere through the pain he saw the witch reeling back in shock. He lashed out, crashing into some shelves and shattering the table in his confusion. He stumbled to his feet, panting, and whirled to face the witch, knocking over a few more ceramic pots with the motion. 

He and the witch were at equal height now, and she was staring at him with a mix of shock and glee. 

_“Strong boy…”_ She crooned, and Colin shuddered. It was the first time he had heard her say words he could actually understand, and her voice grated like someone was repeatedly shoving metal forks in his ears. _“ **Mighty** boy… there is so much power in you… yes…”_

The witch shuffled over to him then, waving her fingers around in the air. Colin was petrified, but also so tired. He felt his legs shaking, about to give out any moment. _“So much more than the other babies… you could feed me for a long time…”_ She trailed one long fingernail down his face, and Colin shook so hard he swore he could hear his own bones rattling around. The witch started her chant again, and suddenly Colin could feel the life seeping out of him once more. The ceiling got farther and farther away as it did, and it took him a moment to realize it was because he was shrinking back down in time with the witch’s spell.

Eventually he was back to regular size, feeling nauseous and ready to collapse at any moment from exhaustion, and he was shaking and could barely feel his fingers, but… he was alive. He didn’t know if it was thanks to the venom or because the witch had decided to keep him around for longer, but whatever the reason, he was alive. He was alive and that was all that mattered, because if he was still alive then there was still hope of getting out of this.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Two months had gone by. Colin made a habit out of asking every new kid the date. It gave him a shred of a connection to the outside world and in return he’d try to comfort the other, younger kids. It was hard though, to take care of all the little kids and still not get too attached. Eventually there always came a time when they’d go in the kitchen and not come out. But he couldn’t just be cold to them, either. 

“Don’t worry,” he’d say. “We’re gonna get out of here. You’ll see.”

“I’m friends with Robin, you know.” He’d say to every newly caught child. “He’s gonna save us.” 

And usually this worked. Robin had always been a beacon of hope for Gotham kids and these ones were no exception. 

Well, except for this one. This one, the same age as Colin, apparently, introduced himself as Trey. 

And when Colin said all this to him Trey's face fell, and the other kid gave Colin a look of pure pity. 

Colin always hated pity. 

“Didn’t you hear?” Trey said, completely unaware of the effect his next words were going to have. “Robin is dead.”


	6. The Lair pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colin Smash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s part two!! I can’t believe what was supposed to be two or MAYBE three more chapters has turned into an extra, like, six

More time passed. 

Part of Colin didn’t really believe it. 

Didn’t want to. 

That was the part of him that had to keep hoping. 

That part was very small, now. 

Another part of him wasn’t afraid of dying anymore, even if the witch made it clear that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. 

That was the part of him that knew it didn’t matter if he lived, there wasn’t any chance of freedom if Damian didn’t. 

That was the part of him that knew he could never beat the witch himself, weak as he was. 

That was the part that had given up hoping. 

That part was much, much bigger. 

He was cold, now. Shut off from the other kids. 

Trey was dead already. 

It didn’t matter. 

In the corner a four year old was crying. 

Colin barely heard it. 

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. 

Damian was gone. Wasn’t coming for him. He knew no one else was looking for them, or even knew they were gone. But not Damian. Damian could have done it. Damian could do anything. 

And now he was dead, apparently. 

Colin was never getting out of there. 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Colin didn’t know how much time it had been since was caught but he knew it was a lot. He sure he missed Christmas. He was sure it was a knew year. He was sure it had been for a long, long while. 

And he was pretty sure there was nothing special about this new kid except for the fact that she seemed completely unperturbed that she was now stuck in a dark and scary dungeon with a bunch of scared and dirty kids. 

“Don’t worry,” she said when Colin told her where they were. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“How do you know that?” Asked one of the other kids. Colin didn’t know her name. 

“Because,” the new girl smiled. “Robin is gonna save us.”

“…”

Colin didn’t have a name for the emotion he was feeling right now. 

“I thought Robin was dead…” he whispered. 

The girl shook her head. “Yeah, I heard that too, but I guess he was just missing for a year instead because he’s back now!”

_A year…?_

“How do you know?”

“I saw him! He saved me from a burning building last week.” 

_Colin, no. Don’t do this. Stop getting your hopes up like this. It could just be a new Robin. It’s not **your** Robin._

But still… 

“Did… was Robin short, with brown skin and dark hair?” 

“Yep! That’s the one!” The new girl grinned like she didn’t even know the effect her words were having on him. 

Colin gulped. “Permanent glare?” 

The girl nodded again. 

Colin couldn’t believe it. 

“...what day is it?”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He couldn’t believe he had been trapped in the lair for over a year. Claire, the new girl, couldn’t either. Especially when he told her most kids didn’t last more than three weeks. 

“Because of my superpowers.” He said when she asked why. “Regular kids can’t survive more than three or four feedings. I just… can, I guess.” 

“Wow, that pretty cool.” Claire said, obviously impressed. Colin sighed. Claire was nice. She was a couple years younger than him (and he was eleven now, what the heck) and she had a brightness in her eyes that Colin was sure hadn’t been in his own for a long time. He didn’t think she really understood the gravity of her situation. She was trapped in a dungeon with a with a sinister witch who ate children. She was going to die in less than a month, providing the weren’t rescued before then. They probably wouldn’t be, and even if they were she’d never be the same. 

But Colin would be cruel to crush that brightness now. 

“It’s not cool at all, actually.” He said. “It’s really lonely, and painful. I haven’t had a proper meal in ages; sometimes the witch makes me drink this gross sludge that keeps my health up, I guess. Sometimes I’d rather just be dead then keep living like this.” 

Claire looked at him sadly. “We’ll get out of here. We will.” She said, squeezing his hand gently. Colin took comfort in it, thinking maybe she was right. If Damian was back, whether he died or not, then maybe Colin could get out of there after all.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Claire ended up not living long enough to get rescued. She only lasted two feedings before she reached her limit, and for the first time in a long time, Colin actually felt sad for another kid there. He didn’t cry, hadn’t in a long, long time, over anything, but he did mourn the loss of his friend. She had given him a shred of light in all the darkness, after all, so it was the least he could do. 

God, that sounded really cheesy, now that Colin thought about it. All that talk about hope and despair and whatever. But it wasn’t like those weren’t Colin’s actual feelings. He had hope again, now that he knew Damian was out there and living. But as time crept forward and more children came and went, Colin found it harder to believe Damian even remembered him. 

It was an upsetting thought, but it had been months already since Claire showed up. And Colin was sure the witch was using some sort of spell to keep them all hidden, so maybe…

Maybe Damian had been caught in that spell. Maybe he had forgotten about Colin and moved on. And that, well, that would be fine, Colin figured, if it was magic then it couldn’t be helped, but the idea that Damian could be out there somewhere getting along just fine without Colin broke his heart a little. 

It broke his heart a lot. That brief flare of happiness from before had all but fizzled out, but Colin didn’t feel that kind of crushing sorrow from before. He didn’t feel cold or angry. 

Now he just felt numb. That was fine, Colin had accepted it. He was never getting out and that was fine. At least the other children saw an end to their torture, but not Colin. Colin was going to be kept alive on a chain forever. 

But that was fine. 

It _was._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

More time passed. 

Sometimes Colin slept and sometimes he didn’t. At first he bought maybe he could keep track of the days based on when he started to feel tired, but that soon proved to not work since Colin’s sleep schedule had been weird long before he ever got kidnapped. Nowadays Colin kept the date based on what kind of holidays or events he heard the other kids talking about. He himself rarely joined in on the conversation, he didn’t have the energy, but he could listen. 

And this was the third time since he was caught that the topic of focus had been the start of summer vacation. 

Which would mean he had been in that dungeon for almost three years. 

And he was starting to get fed up with it. 

When before he didn’t care what happened, the longer he was trapped by the witch the longer he simply needed to get out. 

The witch’s spell had made Damian forget him, he was positive. But maybe Colin could break the spell, somehow. Of all the times he had been in the kitchen, Colin had never seen a second door or any evidence the witch lived or worked in a deprecate area, which meant surely all her spellwork was done in the kitchen. 

And Colin didn’t know if there was some sort of charm, or altar, or whatever that she used for the spell or if it was something she cast, so he figured there was only one real effective solution. 

Destroy. Everything. 

Colin knew he couldn’t fight the witch directly, or even get away of her full attention was on him. She was stronger than he was and there was no changing that. But if she was distracted…

He didn’t know where this sudden surge of action had come from. Maybe the frustration had just been building to the breaking point. Maybe a switch had just gone off in his mind. Whatever the case was, Colin needed to make a plan of attack. Unfortunately, that was the part he was struggling with. There were just too many unknowns. He could wait until the witch was feeding off another kid, but she always closed the door behind her and Colin couldn’t be sure if it was locked. Then he had to transform into Abuse, which he had to do slowly in order to avoid hurting himself and could take up to ten minutes. And if the witch was feeding then she could be gaining even more power, and might be able to stop him before he even started. 

To avoid that he could always burst in at a time when she had gone a few days without feeding of one of the children, but then he’d have no idea what could be waiting on the other side of that door. 

In the end Colin just decided ‘screw it’ and would do it just once the opportunity presented itself. He was never that great a tactician anyway. 

So Colin waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited a few weeks until he finally made his move. 

It happened when the witch dragged in a kid who had already been fed off of twice. 

Which meant they probably wouldn’t make it through this time. 

And if they didn’t make it, then the witch would have to do something with the body. 

Which should give Colin enough of a distraction to get in there and smash everything in sight. 

A few minutes went and Colin figured it was as good a time as any to start transforming. 

As always, he started with his legs. He let them grow slowly, keeping in mind all the changes his skeleton had to make in order to get to full size. Then he felt his torso start to thicken, followed by his neck and arms. Around him other children started to gasp and move away, shocked by what was happening before them. Colin shushed then quickly, before any of them could start screaming and clue the witch in on what was happening. Finally his muscles stopped swelling and he rolled his shoulders experimentally, standing to his full ten feet. Maybe it was because he was able to transform properly for the first time in years or maybe it was because he was about to do something useful, but in that moment when he marched over to the wooden kitchen door Colin felt really, really good. 

Here goes nothing…

Colin pulled his fist fist back and punched the door right off his hinges. 

Hell yeah!

Behind him, children were gasping and yelling. Inside the kitchen the witch was hunched over the still figure of a thin nine year old, snarling at Colin. Colin stared her down, not hesitating to grab the door and launch it at the nearest shelf of breakable looking things. The witch screeched, moving to stop him, but Colin moved faster, tearing down hanging plants and knocking over tables and shattering bottles of strange looking liquid. 

Colin grabbed the handle of her cauldron, still warm and full of what looked like soup but smelled like something else, and swung it around, spilling putrid liquid all over the floor and table. He released the cauldron and let it fly into an altar, smashing it into hundred of pieces. 

Crystals and bones and feathers flew everywhere. 

He was able to duck away from the witch once more, roundhouse kicking a shelf stand covered in pendants and animal parts over, scattering the objects all across the floor, before she caught up and grabbed him by the back of his neck. 

The witch dragged Colin to the other end of the kitchen, and Colin finally stopped struggling. He did enough. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the other kids crowded at the doorway, watching in a mix of horror and awe. Colin smiled at them, figuring even if the witch did kill him for this, it would have been worth it if it meant at least those kids would be saved. 

If it stopped the witch from hurting any more innocent kids. 

The witch threw him down on the floor, snarling words Colin couldn’t understand. He felt himself shrinking back down and could have laughed. He did something. After three years of doing jack-all he finally, actually did something. 

He saw the witch grab something outside of his field of vision and raise it up into the air. She said some more strange words, then swung the object down at him as a sickening yellow-green gold filled the air. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Colin woke up, the first thing his mind registered was _pain_. 

Then he remembered what happened and the second and third things his mind registered were _victory_ and _alive_. 

He cracked one eye open, finally noticing the whispers in the air around him, surrounding him like a heavy curtain. He was lying on the lair’s floor, and would be looking directly at the ceiling if his vision wasn’t crowded by small children. 

Colin groaned, shutting his eyes again, and the whispers suddenly stopped, instead replaced by the sound of children shuffling away from him. 

Pushing himself up into a sitting position turned out to actually be really hard. He was short of breath and his arms shook with the effort, but eventually he was able to do it. He pressed a hand to his forehead, groaning again. It felt like someone had shoved his brains in a blender and then put the blender in a clothes dryer and put it on its highest setting. 

It was then that he noticed the glowing metal band on his wrist. 

“Wha…” Colin frowned, looking down at himself. There was a matching band wrapped around his other wrist, both of his bony ankles and one around his waist as well. Reaching up and feeling around his neck proved there to be one there, too. 

He looked over his shoulder then, spotting the group of younger children huddled in the far corner, staring at him. The one in front, a small kid with wide gray eyes and messy brown hair crept forward. 

“Are… are you okay?” Whispered the boy. Colin swallowed thickly. 

“Yeah…” he whispered, voice hoarse from lack of use. “I’m okay.” 

“Who are you?” Asked the boy. Colin blinked, trying to shake away the pounding in his head. 

“My name is Colin.” He said. “You?”

“Joey,” the boy replied automatically. “But that’s- that’s not what I meant. You- you were- you fought-“

“Yeah.” Colin cut off Joey’s stuttering, shrugging. “Don’t know if it did any good, and whatever she did to me after is killing my head, so…”

“No!” Joey said as more kids started to come closer as well. “That was _amazing_.”

Colin huffed out what was the closest he had come to a laugh in years. “Thanks, kid.” 

“Wha’d’you reckon these are for?” Tentatively asked another, even younger child, fingers hovering hesitantly over one of Colin’s new pieces of jewelry. 

“Prolly to keep him from hulking out again.” Replied a third child who looked to be closer in age to Colin than most of the others. “Not like it would do anything, since he couldn’t even beat the witch or save Maria.” She said, clearly bitter. Colin fought down a pang of guilt. He looked over at the door to the witch’s kitchen. It had obviously been fixed while he was out, since it was haphazardly back on its hinges and there were parts of it that were boarded up were Colin had punched straight through. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your friend…” he said. “But I wasn’t trying to beat the witch. If you’d been here as long as me you’d know it’s impossible. I just needed to destroy the kitchen. It’s kinda complicated but… I was trying to destroy whatever magic thing she used to keep the memory spell going, so that- somebody- could realize we were missing and come save us.” 

Joey’s eyes shone. “So we’re gonna be rescued?” 

“Maybe.” Colin quickly backpedalled. He didn’t want to be responsible to get this poor kids hopes up only for them to get crushed later. “I don’t know if it even worked, and it looks like I won’t get another try.” He lifted a hand, gesturing to the glowing bit of metal sealed around it. “We’ve just got to wait and see.”

The bitter girl scoffed, turning away from the group and sitting against the wall. 

Colin sighed, toying with the edge of the band around his right wrist. Although he was fine with letting the subject drop, it seemed as though the other kids still had questions for him. 

“What was your name again?”

“Colin.” Colin said, starting to get impatient. He had had minimal interaction with other people for over a year and suddenly wished that all these little kids wouldn’t crowd him so much. 

“Are you a superhero, Colin?”

“I… Yeah.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Where did you get your powers?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“How long have you been stuck here, anyway, Colin?”

“Three years.”

“Three years!?”

“That’s so long!”

“Who’s gonna save us, Colin?”

“How strong are you, Colin?” 

“Is Batman gonna save us, Colin?”

“What’s your superhero name, Colin?”

“Did you beat up lots of bad guys, Colin?” 

“Colin, if you’re a superhero then did you ever know Robin?”

Colin shut his eyes against all the voices, headache coming back full force. He mashed his hands over his ears, trying to block out all the noise. Just- too much, it was too much!

“Shut up!” He yelled, and the children all jumped back. “Just shut up all of you shut up! Leave me alone!”

He shuffled backwards until he felt his back hit the wall and buried his face in his knees. Across the room he heard one of the younger children start to cry, probably scared by his outburst, and Colin felt bad, but not bad enough to not wish the toddler would be quiet already. 

Colin wasn’t sure how long he spent curled up in the corner. Eventually he fell asleep like that, metal digging uncomfortably into his skin. 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Colin twisted around in the dark, trying to spot the boy he **knew** he saw out of the corner of his eye. He was just there..._

_“Damian… Damian!”_

_Colin ran towards the spot where his friend had just been standing. What was Damian getting at? This was no time for games. “Come on, Dames,” Colin said, starting to get a little annoyed. “Where'd you go?”_

_Suddenly he heard Damian’s voice echo through the strange, empty place, laced with anger and confusion. ‘Show yourself!’ He shouted, and Colin looked this way and that, trying to spot the other boy._

_‘Who are you?!’_

_Colin sighed, the sound unnaturally loud. “Aw, Dames,” he said, disappointed. “Don't tell me you don't remember?”_

_‘Remember?’ Damian cried. ‘Remember what? Who? Tell me your name!’_

_Colin huffed, his frustration growing. Come on, Dames, get with the program! You have to remember, you have to find us! He looked down at the ground, or rather, lack of. His feet were bare, and what he could feel was smooth and cool like the floor of the witch’s dungeon, but he couldn’t see anything. Just an inky abyss._

_This must be a dream. Colin looked back up, seeing a figure in the distance, standing with their back towards him. It was Damian!_

_“When you wake up…”_

_Colin ran toward his friend as fast as his feet would take him, stopping mere inches away. Damian spun to face him then, and Colin took in the other boy’s almost ghost-like appearance. He looked basically the same as he did the last time Colin saw him, except his face wasn’t as round and his cheekbones were a little more defined. Damian’s hair was different, too, and there was something swimming in his friend’s eyes that Colin just couldn’t name._

_“...remember **me** , Damian.”_


	7. Snitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I! HATE! WRITING! FIGHT SCENES!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahhhhh this is a long one boys!!! Sorry if it's really disjointed I had a lot I wanted to shove in this chapter

_“Hey… hey, kid! Wake up!”_

“Whuh?”

Jon blinked, sitting up as he tried to take in his surroundings. Last thing knew Damian was yelling at him, and then he was waking up on this cold, dark stone floor.

“Where am I?” He asked, finally noticing the group of thirty or so other kids gathered in front of him.

“The witch’s lair.” Said the one in front. He was about the same height as Jon, if not an inch taller, and was wearing ragged clothes that looked like they hadn’t been washed in literally years. He was awfully skinny and his face was pale and freckled with deep bags under his brown eyes, and his long red hair was tangled and just as dirty as he rest of him. Jon also noticed he was covered almost everywhere in stretch marks, and there were weird glowing metal bands around his wrists, ankles, neck, and waist.

“The witch’s lair?” Repeated Jon, confused. How the heck did he get here?

The boy in front of him nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Or at least, that’s what I call it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So, who are you? It’s not Halloween already, is it?”

Jon blinked. “Who am I? _Halloween?_ What are you talking about, I’m _Superboy_!”

Whispers erupted amongst the kids behind them.

_“Superboy?”_

_“Wow!”_

_“I’ve never seen him in real life before…”_

_“Does this mean we’re finally gonna get saved?”_

_“No stupid, he’s stuck here too.”_

_“Superboy is dumb, I wish Robin was here.”_

“Superboy?” The boy in front of him finally said. “What? No, that’s not right. I thought Superboy was way bigger. And not, like, five years old.”

“Hey!” Jon cried indignantly. “I’m ten and three quarters!”

One of the other kids poked the red headed boy in the shoulder. “No, that was the old Superboy! There’s a new one, now.” The boy whispered conspiratorially. This one was way smaller than the both of them, and looked way younger too. He was also way less dirty than the redhead was. The younger boy turned to Jon then, eyes twinkling.

“I’m Joey!” He said. “Do you know Robin? Is he gonna come save us?”

Jon sputtered, indignant again. “Robin? What am I, chopped liver?” He said.

Jon wasn’t sure what that phrase meant, actually, but he had heard Flash say it once and he liked it, so he said it basically all the time, now. Damian hated it, saying he was using it wrong, but it looked like he got it right this time, because the redhead just laughed.

“To Gotham kids? Yeah, you kinda are, Super- _baby_. I’m Colin, by the way.” He stuck his hand out to shake.

Jon didn’t shake it, though, too surprised to do anything.

“Colin?” Jon said. “You’re- you’re the one Da- Robin’s looking for!”

_“Hey, he DOES know Robin!”_

Colin’s whole body seemed to light up, his eyes shining with something that hadn’t been there before.

“He’s looking for me?” He asked, grinning.

“Uh, yeah, he is. Pretty fired up about it too.”

“I knew it.” Colin said softly, ducking his head and hiding behind his bangs. Like he was shy or something. Which confused Jon a little, but whatever.

“Are you gonna fight the witch, Superboy?” One of the other kids asked. She was even younger than Joey.

“Uh… maybe?”

A chorus of whines and aws erupted from the kids.

“I’m sorry,” Jon said. “But I don’t even know how I got here. And I didn’t even know the witch existed. And I’m still in training. I might not be strong enough.”

More whines and aws. One really, really young kid started crying.

Another little kid came up and patted his arm. “It’s okay if you’re not strong enough to fight the witch,” he said. “Even Colin can’t beat her, and Colin’s the strongest person ever!”

“Yeah!” Piped up a different kid. “Colin’s even stronger than Superman, probably!”

“Maybe even stronger than _Batman_!”

“Yeah!”

“Uh…” Jon wasn’t sure what to do. “Who is the witch?”

Colin pulled a face.

“It’s more like… a What.”

“Okay.” Jon said. “Tell me more.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: meanwhile ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The teen titans rushed to the outskirts of Gotham and towards a heavily wooded area, where they had managed to pinpoint Superboy’s location.

“So, who’s Colin?” Beast boy asked not for the first time. Damian grunted.

“A friend.” Damian answered, also not for the first time.

“What kind of friend?”

Damian growled.

“A special friend?”

“An old friend. My first friend.”

“Damn,” said Kid Flash.

“Boys, do not pester Robin.” Starfire chided like an exasperated mother. Or like a tired aunt who had been left to babysit her sister’s five screaming toddlers and wasn’t allowed to have a damn drink.

“We’re here.” Raven said, cutting them all off.

“Uh… where is ‘here’ exactly?” Aqualad asked, looking around at the thick, old trees surrounding them. Nothing but thick, old trees. It seemed like the wood stretched on forever, nowhere good in sight to be stashing three hundred little kids. Robin crouched on the ground, pressing a palm down onto the solid earth beneath them.

“Right here,” he said. “Underground. The earth is abnormally cold here, and smooth to the touch. Like stone disguised as soil.”

“Something powerful lives here…” Raven muttered, feeling the ground as well. “We should be cautious.”

“Beast Boy, can you burrow underground, see what is there?” Starfire asked their green friend.

Beast boy laughed. “Can a bear crap in the woods?”

He only received a handful of withering looks in return. Beast Boy sighed. “Fine, fine, no one appreciates true art anymore.” He shook his head, transforming into a bright green mole, and immediately started digging. Once he was out of sight, Starfire turned to Robin, a soft, kind look on her face.

“Robin, while we wait, would you like to speak about your feelings right now?”

Robin clicked his tongue in contempt. “Tt. No. I do not.”

“I think it would be good for you. Nightwing says you have benefited greatly in the past from stepping back and analyzing your emotions. We should try, while we have a free moment.”

“No.”

“Would it help if we all analyzed our emotions?” Said Wally.

“No.”

“I don’t know man, it seems like you’ve had a rough day. You really shouldn’t bottle that stuff up.” Said Jackson.

“Robin, if you talk about your feelings, then I’ll talk about my feelings too.” Said Raven.

Damian didn’t look completely convinced, but… “...fine.”

Raven nodded. “Good. Right now, I’m feeling concerned for Superboy and the other missing children.”

Kori grinned. “That’s perfect! I will go next. I am currently also feeling concerned, both for Superboy and the children, but also for Robin, because it is unhealthy to bottle up one’s negative emotions in the way that he is doing.”

Damian crossed his arms. “When did this team turn into group therapy?”

“When we became friends. That’s what all the cool kids are doing with their friends nowadays.” Said Wally. “Say, Aqualad. How ya feeling right now?”

“Well actually…” Jackson grinned. “A cute barista gave me his number this morning, so I’m feeling pretty damn good.”

“Nice!” Wally grinned back. “You gonna text him?”

“I don’t know… I haven’t decided yet. I’m still kinda hung up on Kenny.”

“That’s cool, man. Personally, I am feeling both concerned for the kids and happy for Aqualad.” Kid Flash turned to Robin then.

“Alright, Robin, your turn now.”

Damian let out the longest long suffering sigh ever heard, then spoke as if he were an incredibly professional but somewhat apathetic doctor listing off a patient’s diagnosis of a terminal disease.

“Right now the feelings that I am feeling are… frustration, anger, impatience, and…” he looked around the group with apprehension. “Fear.”

::::::::::::::::::: meanwhile, below them :::::::::::::::::::

“Oh my god…” Jon whispered, feeling a little queasy as Colin told him an obviously very abridged version of what he had seen the past three years.

“Yeah.” Colin said. “My theory is that, well, you know how in the olden days, folktales were all like, don’t go into the woods at night because the evil Satan monsters will eat you?”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, I think the Witch is one of those evil Satan monsters of old, and she feeds off children to stay alive all this time.”

“Wow.” Jon said. “So, how can we beat her?”

Colin sighed. “Maybe… if you could simply overpower her, then I don’t think it’d be too hard. But she’s so strong, and has magic, even if we did fight her together we’d probably lose.”

Jon frowned. He understood that Colin had been through a lot but that wasn’t exactly helpful. He was kind of a downer.

“Well you know, I was with the Teen Titans when I got caught!” Jon insisted. “So they’ll come find me, and then all together we’ll definitely be able to beat the witch!”

Colin gave him a sad look. “Superboy, I’m sorry, but-“ He was cut off suddenly when out of the corner of his eye he spotted something moving on the wall.

“What…?” He moved closer. It seemed like something was digging it’s way in. Jon moved closer too, and they both stared at the spot of disturbed earth. Suddenly, a bright green mole popped out of the wall and onto the floor.

Jon grinned at the mole while Colin jumped back in shock, obviously not expecting that. He jumped back again when it started to talk, grabbing the attention of the other kids in the lair.

“Hey Superboy!” Said the strange green creature. “What’s the sitch?”

“Beast Boy!” Jon cried happily. “Am I glad to see you.”

Beast Boy grinned, which was really weird to see on the face of a mole, and then transformed back into a person. Although he was still green.

“Beast Boy?” Colin said incredulously.

“Ugh!” Another kid, Joey, whined. “When is Robin gonna show up?”

“Hey, I’m cool too!” Beast Boy said. “Besides, Robin is here, along with the rest of the team. I’m just doing reconnaissance before we form a plan of attack.”

Colin grinned. “So- we’re getting rescued!”

Beast Boy nodded. “That’s the idea, yeah.” He said. “So, come on, gimme the deets. What’s going on here? I see a bunch of kids, but no kidnappers.”

“Well, you see…”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Fear?” Kori prompted Damian to elaborate. He sighed.

“Colin has been missing for three years.” He said, grimacing. “Three _years_. And it’s all my fault, so if I’m too late to save him… I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself.”

“Oh, Robin…” Kori said softly, placing a warm hand in his shoulder. Damian jerked away.

“Whatever.” He said harshly. “Whether Colin is there or not, we still have a job to do. Now if Beast Boy would just-“

“Hey guys!” Beast Boy said, popping back out of the earth. “So great news! I found Superboy and the other kids, and we came up with a plan together!”

Raven raised an eyebrow at him. “You, Superboy, and a group of young children came up with a plan?”

Beast boy grinned. “Well, I can’t take all the credit. It was mostly that one Colin kid that did most of the work.” He smirked at Damian’s sudden hitch in breath. “Yeah, your friend is down there, kid. Don’t worry.”

Damian nodded, forcing down the emotion he could feel rising in his chest. Later, he thought. He could deal with emotions later. Now was the time for action.

Wally stepped forward. “So, what’s the plan?”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Jon grunted, pulling harder at the metal around Colin’s wrists, trying to break them off. It was really hard. They had been enchanted so Colin couldn’t break them with his enhanced strength and they were hot to the touch. Jon, whose powers were not yet fully developed, wasn’t that much stronger than Colin could get, but it was enough, and eventually he managed to snap them all off.

When the last one was off Colin breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Superbaby.” Jon huffed.

“For the last time, I’m not a baby!”

Colin just laughed. “You’re ten. You’re a baby.”

Jon pouted.

“So, you’re friends with Robin, right?” Colin asked. Jon sighed.

“Yeah, best friends, but… I don’t know if he’ll want to still be friends, anymore.”

Colin raised his eyebrows at him, trying to keep as much petty satisfaction out of his expression as possible. “Oh?” He did feel a little bad about being jealous of a ten year old, but come on. _He_ was Damian’s best friend _first_.

“Yeah… cuz you see, what happened was he was skipping school for like week and a half because he was trying to find you…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And, well, he told me to mind my own business but I was getting worried about him cuz I didn’t know what he was doing, right, so I told my parents and then my parents told Batman and Batman- fired him, I guess.”

Colin looked at him in shock. “Oh my god!” He said. “You snitched!”

“I did not _snitch_!” Jon flushed indignantly. “I did not!”

“You totally snitched!” The older boy cried, nodding his head vigorously. “You snitched on Robin! Dude, dick move.”

“What happened?” Joey asked, popping his head into the conversation.

“Nothing, Joey.” Jon snapped. “Mind your own business.”

Joey pouted, but shifted away without further complaint. He joined the other kids against the wall, who were all waiting for the teen titans to arrive.

“I did _not_ snitch.” Jon said again.

“Whatever. I’m just thinking you should probably apologize.”

“Well, he yelled at me.” Jon huffed.

“Yeah, because you snitched. You told a bunch of adults about his personal business.”

“A bunch of adults? I just told my parents! Doesn’t every kid trust their parents?”

Colin scoffed. “Well, I wouldn’t know, but I sure don’t trust grown ups. Next time, unless your friend is in immediate danger and you _have_ to tell an adult, then just don’t. I get that you wanted to help, but most times, like this time apparently, it does more harm than good.”

Jon paled as he remembered that Colin didn’t have parents and he probably just said something insensitive. He frowned, wondering what kind of grown ups Colin had been used to to distrust them so much. Jon couldn’t imagine what that would be like. He trusted his parents with everything.

The younger boy was about to open his mouth to say something more when suddenly the whole dungeon shook around them with a sound like thunder, dust falling from the ceiling.

The children all pressed closer to the wall as the cave shook once more, cracks starting to appear in the ceiling. They heard rattling sounds from the kitchen.

Colin held his breath, staring at the ceiling. _One more hit_ , he thought. _One more hit and the-_

The roof finally gave in, bits of rock and stone raining in from the large hole that had just been blasted in right in front of the kitchen door. Colin squinted as the lair was suddenly filled with actual, natural sunlight he hadn’t seen in three years. He and the other children all gasped as several figures dropped down onto the pile of rubble, shouting.

There were crashing sounds coming from the kitchen, but Colin wasn’t paying attention to that.

“Alright everybody, let’s go! Starfire, Superboy and Raven will take you up, youngest first!”

_Damian!_

Colin’s vision tunneled, barely even seeing Starfire swoop down and grab an armful of toddlers, or Superboy lift Joey up in a piggyback and another kid in his arms or Raven carry one child and levitate others. He didn’t even notice Kid Flash or Aqualad standing guard by the door, ready to go after the Witch once she inevitably emerges within the next few moments.

He only saw Damian, there, really there, in the flesh, barreling towards him, an indescribable emotion painted across his face.

“Colin!”

“Robin!” Colin gasped, choking back tears as his friend dropped to his knees in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders. Damian was shaking.

“Oh, Colin, look at you. Allah, you’re practically _emaciated_ \- this was my fault, I should have-“

“Robin.” Colin cut him off, grabbing the other boy’s hands and squeezing them tightly in his own. “It’s fine.”

At that, Damian looked legitimately offended. “It is _not_ -!”

“Robin!” The kitchen door rattled like something was trying to bust it down, leaving the two vigilantes guarding it trying to hold it shut. They were almost done evacuating the children but they didn’t want to engage the witch until all the kids were out lest one got caught in the crossfire. “We can talk later, okay? Right now we need to fight.”

Damian balked as Colin started to transform with a smirk on his face. “You- Colin, no! You can’t-”

“I’m gonna fight too, Robin!” Colin said. “You can’t stop me.”

Immense satisfaction rushed through him as he continued to grow, and soon Damian had to crane his neck to look Colin in the eye. Hovering by the hole, Jon’s jaw dropped at the sight of Colin transforming. The door rattled again, this time with much more force, and Jackson and Wally were clearly struggling to keep it shut.

“Anytime now, guys!” Jackson yelled. Finally Kory lifted the last child through the hole and placed her on the ground.

“Go!” She said to the group now standing outside. “Stick together and run, but don’t go so far we can’t find you. Here,” she tossed a phone to the closest child, Joey. He caught it, looking at her in confusion.

“Call 911, tell them you all are about ten miles into the woods north of the outskirts of Gotham. Ask for police officers and paramedics, okay?”

Joey nodded quickly. “Okay.” He said, voice shaking a little. Starfire gave him a reassuring smile.

“You will all be fine. We will defeat the witch, and you will all be safe.”

Joey nodded again, and Starfire disappeared back into the hole.

_“911, what’s your emergency?”_

Back down in the dungeon the kitchen door finally gave way and the witch burst in, hissing and snarling.

“Holy sh-“ yelled Aqualad, dodging out of the way of the door that had just flown off its hinges.

 _“How **dare** you!”_ Screeched the witch, pointing accusingly at Colin. Colin shuddered at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t back down. The witch shuffled forward and the Teen Titans held their breath, waiting for the signal to strike. _“First you desecrate my home, you disobey me, you steal my babies-“_

Colin cut her off with a roar. “They were never your babies! Every one of those kids deserved life and freedom and you took that from them! You took that from _me_!” Colin was shaking. He had never spoken directly for the witch before, and he felt a wave of power and satisfaction rush through him.

_“Don’t talk back to me! I **needed** those babies-“_

“You don’t need _shit_!” Colin cried, grabbing a substantially sized rock of the ground and hurling it at the witch’s head.

Well, guess that was as good a signal as any. The teen titans lept in as the witch let out a piercing wail, levitating several large chunks of the rubble beneath her feet. Raven dodged one that went sailing in her direction, counterattacking with a blast of magic. The witch just shot one right back. The battle continued much in that manner, blows and blasts being sent back and forth as the witch eventually, finally, started to slow down. The light was lower now than it was when this all began, and they could faintly hear sirens approaching in the distance. Colin grunted, barely dodging another spell the witch had sent hurtling in his direction.

The witch screeched again when Robin lodged an exploding batarang in her shoulder blade, but it didn’t seem to do as much damage as the boy had clearly been hoping and he cursed. The witch reeled around, ignoring Starfire’s and Kid Flash’s attacks and saying something incomprehensible.

“Robin, look out!” Colin cried, pushing his friend out of the way of her telekinetic attack, the force of which sent Colin himself flying back and smashing into the wall behind them. He groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. Faintly he heard Daman calling him an idiot. His vision was blurry, but he could still somewhat make out the image of Aqualad and Raven doing some weird magic-electric combo move together, and- oh my god- is the witch-

With a sound like nails on a chalkboard, the witch sank to the ground, literally crumbling like dust in little bits and pieces at a time.

It was kind of gross.

Colin breathed a heavy sigh of relief, shrinking back down to regular size. In his peripheral vision he saw Damian running towards him, shouting something he couldn’t make out. But it didn’t matter. The witch was gone. The witch was _gone_.

He tried to stand, but suddenly the ground was moving and he swayed dangerously on the spot. Vaguely, Colin registered Damian grabbing his shoulder to support him, still saying something. Colin felt woozy.

“Hey Dames…” He mumbled, his own voice sounding like it was underwater. He didn’t even realize he had accidentally used Robin’s real name. “I don’t feel so good…”

The ground moved again, and then Colin couldn’t even see the ground. His vision blacked out, and he faintly heard Damian yelling at him to stay awake before passing out completely.

 _Sorry, Damian_. Colin thought apathetically. It was the last thing his mind registered before sinking into the warm, comfortable darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dw hes not dead


	8. Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The action deescalates, and some very necessary conversations are had. Also, boys are kinda dumb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like,, does Colin's venom transformation confuse everyone else as much as it confuses me??? Like I personally headcanon Colin being completely covered in stretch marks literally everywhere, bc i mean really, you've seen how much he grows when he transforms, right??? Hes like four whole feet taller!!! If he grows that much too quickly, then his skin would stretch out a lot too, wouldn't it?? Or does his skin area increase in time with the rest of him?? I don't know!! And what about his bones?? To they grow, too?????? They must, or else his joints would be torn apart as he transforms, which obviously doesn't happen. Does he overheat if he stays as Abuse too long? Like, there was this version of early humans called Goliath, a descendant of Homo Erectus, who was basically Colin's Abuse size, but they died out because they didn't have the proper body mass-skin area ratio and overheated to death, which is why humans usually don't grow that tall anymore. And what about his organs? Does his whole body increase in size or is it just his muscles?? Am I overthinking this? Definitely!

The beeping of machines was the only sound permeating the otherwise thick silence of the batcave. Damian stood stiffly in the medbay, staring down at the motionless boy on the bed before him. Colin lay still on the cot, dressed in a hospital gown and hooked up to several machines around them. Most of them were nutrient supplements; when they found him he has been severely malnourished. A heart monitor beeped every so often next to them.

It had been a couple of hours since they returned from the witch’s lair, but Damian still hadn’t changed completely out of his costume. His mask was discarded a while ago, and his cape he had actually used to wrap Colin in when he collapsed, and his gloves he had taken off for comforts sake, but everything else remained on.

He feared if he took off the Robin uniform he wouldn’t be allowed to put it back on again.

Damian knew his father was angry with him, and he hadn’t had the chance to properly explain his actions before his father fired him. But he hadn’t seen the man since he first fled the cave and Damian was positive Bruce had heard what happened. How they rescued the children and defeated the witch, with no civilian casualties or destruction of private property, and in beating the witch they had preemptively saved the lives of hundreds more children. Surely his father would understand that this case was more important, or at least more _urgent_ , than school was.

So yes, Damian knew his father had been angry with him. The question was is he _still_ angry with him.

Damian sighed, pulling his attention back to the boy in front of him. He was so pale, and so thin, it made Damian sick to think about. Honestly probably the only reason Colin hadn’t keeled over sooner was his own sheer stubbornness. Damian took a seat on Colin’s left, the beeping of the heart monitor ever present in the background, as well as the soft sounds of his breathing.

It was going to be okay, though. It would. Because now _Colin_ was okay, and that was all Damian needed at the moment. His friend, his first friend, was there, and he was real, and alive, and safe. Damian carefully placed his hand on Colin’s chest, conscious of the gentle rising and falling, feeling for his heartbeat.

There. The steady thumping calmed Damian more than anything had that day so far. It was better reassurance than the machine, anyway. More organic, more tangible.

Damian looked at Colin’s face again, finding himself suddenly choking back tears. The redhead’s once short and tamed hair was now long and tangled beyond belief, and his cheeks were sunken in and the bags under his eyes were massive. Damian cursed himself for letting this happen. If he had just remembered sooner, if he hadn’t forgotten in the first place, then Colin wouldn’t have been suffering these past three years. He had already suffered so much in his life, it just wasn’t fair.

Slowly Damian laid his head on the other boy’s chest, pressing his ear to where his palm had just been, blocking out the rest of the world and just letting the rhythmic thump-thump echo through his body, soothing him down to his core.

It was nice.

Eventually Damian felt the exhaustion creeping up on him and he welcomed it with open arms, falling asleep right there, curled around his friend and feeling slightly peaceful for the first time in a long time.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::the next day:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Colin woke, he didn’t open his eyes right away. Instead he puzzled to himself where we was, how he had gotten there, what was that beeping noise, and what was the weight on his chest?

Colin slowly blinked his eyes open, squinting at the bright white light. It kinda looked like a hospital, except it wasn’t. He was surrounded by machines, hooked up to a few of them, and they all looked pretty high tech. That answered the question of the beeping, but as for where he was…

_Am I… am I in the batcave?_

He must be. There was no other possible answer. So that was that, but what about…

Colin finally looked down at himself, but instead of seeing his own body like he expected, instead there was…

Oh.

Okay, so, Damian was asleep on him. That was fine. That was _fine_.

And for the record, Colin was not blushing. And if he were- _hypothetically_ \- blushing, it would be because it was just… warm in there. In the batcave. It was warm. Not because his best friend was asleep on his chest and looked so peaceful without the constant furrow of his brow and-

Yeah. Not going there.

Colin startled when he heard a barely stifled chuckle somewhere to his right. His gaze automatically snapped in that direction and landed on a man sitting next to them and holding a phone. The man was tall, or at least taller than Colin, with tan skin, dark hair, and a bright grin.

The phone was making extremely conspicuous camera shutter noises.

“I know, right?” The man said, still chuckling. “He’s like a cat. Once he falls asleep on you, you _cannot move_.”

“Um…”

“Name’s Richard by the way, but everyone calls me Dick. You’re Colin, right?”

Colin nodded slightly, then stilled as Damian stirred at the motion. He watched tensely as the boy lifted his head, blinking down at Colin blearily.

“Colin…?” Damian mumbled. Suddenly his eyes flew open, and he threw his arms around Colin’s neck, pulling him up into a tight embrace. “Colin! I- I’m so sorry! I should have- I never- this was all my fault!”

Out of the corner of his eye Colin saw Dick quietly slip away, leaving the two alone. “Damian, hey, hey Dames…” he patted the boy on the shoulder and Damian pulled away, furiously attempting to wipe away his tears.

“Dames-“

“I apologize. That- that was unprofessional. I should not be-“

“It’s okay to be upset, yanno.” Colin said softly, cutting him off before he could retreat too far back into himself. “I’m upset too. What the witch did really sucked, and I wish none of it happened. I feel like I was… cheated, somehow, of three whole years of my life. I don't know. But that’s all because of the witch. It’s not your fault and it’s not mine, either. But it happened, and now there’s nothing to do about it but accept it and move on.”

Damian blinked at him, clearly taken aback by Colin’s sudden speech. “That was… very wise of you to say.” He said. Colin smiled.

“I had a lot of time to think.”

But clearly Damian wasn’t going to give up his stance so easily. “Colin, I _abandoned_ you. I forgot you, and you suffered for it.”

“Stop _blaming_ yourself!” Colin said. “You didn’t abandon me, in the end you came for me and that’s what matters, okay? Hell, you sacrificed Robin for me!”

Damian looked away.

“I’ve decided I don’t want to be bitter anymore, Dames. I’m free now. I can have a fresh start.”

Damian smirked at him. “A fresh start would be a new haircut,” he laughed teasingly, pulling on a chunk of Colin’s hair. “You’ve grown a mane!”

Colin laughed along with him, batting his friend’s hand away. “Is it really that bad?”

“It’s awful. I don’t know if any of it’s salvageable, you might need to shave your head.”

Colin groaned, falling back against the bed. No one said anything for a minute after that, simply sitting in silence and glad to be back in each other’s company.

Eventually Colin spoke again, voice near a whisper. “I missed you, Dames.”

Damian gave him an indecipherable look. “I missed you too, Colin.”

They shared a soft smile, and suddenly Colin’s chest felt full and he couldn’t stop a grin from stretching across his face. Damian looked like he wanted to say something else, but then the moment was broken by a third presence entering the medbay.

“Pardon me, sirs,” It was Alfred. “Master Dick told me you were awake, mister Colin, and I imagine you’re just famished. There are sandwiches in the kitchen if you’re interested.”

The butler stepped out then just as quickly as he had come, and Damian looked at his friend for confirmation, and nearly choked as Colin leapt out of the cot, tearing out his IV as he went.

“Come on, Dames!” The redhead said, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him away, bare feet padding against the cool floor. “I haven’t had real food in _years_!”

Colin stopped suddenly after a few paces, turning to face Damian with a sheepish smile on his face. “Uh… where is the kitchen, exactly?”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

After that Colin actually did get a haircut, because apparently in the twenty four hours since he had been rescued they had managed to actually find a foster family that would take him and CAS said he should look presentable. Which surprised Colin very much, since he had been rejected from several homes before and CAS was seemingly never on his side, but he wasn’t about to argue, and he was eager to get out of the manor anyway. Damian looked disappointed when he heard this. He obviously wanted Colin to stay in the manor with them, and he expressed this quite vocally. He had probably already been building up an argument to his father about why he should adopt Colin, but Colin didn’t want that, anyway.

His weird anxiety about being in the manor clearly was still there, and Colin didn’t want to stay in a place where he constantly felt like an intruder, or a leech, or the underlying fear of breaking things.

“Well maybe if you stayed here you would just get used to it.” Damian huffed, digging through his closet for a nice sweater for Colin to wear. They were similar enough in size anyway, and if Colin really had to go stay with some family somewhere in Gotham than he at least shouldn’t be looking like a slob.

“I don’t know, Damian.” Said Colin. He was starting to get a little impatient. “Besides, it’s not often a home is willing to take me in without putting up a fight first. What was that saying again? Don’t look at gift horses’ teeth?”

“That’s ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’, Wilkes. And besides, if it’s unusual then there is cause for suspicion. It could be a trap.” Damian pulled out a pullover and held it out, examined it and quickly tossed it back in the closet.

“Whatever, Ackbar. Don’t be so paranoid.”

Damian snorted. “That’s rich, coming from you.” Finally he came across a rich brown cardigan he couldn’t recall ever wearing, and brought it over to where Colin was perched on the bed. “At least now you can go back to being Abuse, and we can patrol together again.

To this Colin just sighed, looking down at his hands. “Actually…”

Damian looked at him in frustration. “What now?”

“I don’t really know if I want to be Abuse, anymore.”

Damian’s nostrils flared and he opened his mouth as if to say something, and Colin tried to keep going before he got the chance to. “I mean! I mean, I still want to fight crime with you, just not as Abuse. I wanna reinvent myself. Fresh starts and all that junk, remember?”

“...oh.”

“Where did you think I was going with that?”

“Nowhere. It’s stupid.”

“Come on Dames, tell me.”

“No.”

“It couldn’t have been nothing if it made you so mad! You can trust me, you know.”

“I…” Damian sighed. Ugh, he was getting soft. He really had to stop letting people talk him into talking about his feelings, or he would end up saying something deeply personal and regretful. Like… nevermind. “I had assumed you didn’t want to be friends, anymore.”

Colin gaped at him. “Wha- how did you get that!”

“Well if you didn’t want to be _Abuse_ anymore, then I believed that meant you wouldn’t patrol with me anymore, and then we would never spend time together anymore, and then… we wouldn’t be _friends_ anymore.”

“...Dude.” Colin said. “The hope that you would find me was all that kept me going for three years. I would never stop being friends with you, even if we never patrolled together. Which we totally will, but yeah.”

“Oh.” Damian bit his lip nervously.

“Hey, Dami!” Dick said, poking his head in his little brother’s room, cutting their conversation short. “Bruce wants to talk to you. He’s in his office. Hey Colin, nice sweater.”

Damian’s heart sank. Silently he walked out of his room with a nod to Dick and Colin, and dragged his feet all the way to his father’s office. When he reached the door to Bruce’s office he knocked once, didn’t wait for a reply, instead walking right in and shutting the door behind him.

Inside, his father sat in the large, plush chair behind the solid desk, and there was a similar, smaller chair on the other side. Brice said nothing, and Damian sat in the empty chair, trying to project a sense of calm he definitely did not feel.

“You wished to speak with me, father?”

“Yes.” Bruce frowned, clearing his throat and looking down at his desk. Strange. Damian couldn’t recall his father ever displaying such obvious signs of discomfort before. “My initial decision to fire you was made while my judgement was clouded with anger, and it was harsh, ill-advised, and unnecessary to the situation.”

Damian balked, his jaw nearly hitting the ground. What… what was this? He wasn’t being fired after all? His father was…

“Father, are you reading from _cue cards_?”

Indeed. Bruce did, in fact, have a small stack of cue cards in his large hands. “It was Dick’s idea.” He said defensively, shuffling the cards quickly before resuming.

“While I still disagree with and am disappointed in your actions, namely skipping school, after being shown the whole picture I do understand them. Your argument is sound and justified.”

...Wow. So it took Grayson forcing his father to make cue cards to get him to properly express himself? Writing his thoughts down so he could then say them out loud? Hm. Should Damian decide to ever open up about his feelings, perhaps he should employ the same strategy. Who ever said Grayson didn’t have good ideas from time to time?

“You did good work, Damian.”

Oh. Damian shuffled in his chair slightly, unused to receiving such explicit praise from his father.

“However, you did break several rules, and therefore discipline is still in order.” Bruce flipped to another card before putting them down entirely. “You are benched for twelve days, twice the amount of time you skipped school, and you will have to catch up on all missed work within the week. You also have to promise you won’t do it again, and if something like this comes up again, don’t keep it from me. Is this fair?”

Damian sighed, nodding. While he obviously hated being benched, and snuck out at every opportunity when he was, it was better than being fired, and his fathers logic _was_ sound. “Yes, father.”

Bruce nodded, glancing at the last cue card. “I’m… sorry, for causing you distress, yesterday.”

Damian nodded again. Nodding was a great method of communication for those who struggled with words. Why didn’t people do it more often?

“...Would you like a hug?”

“...Not right now, father. Thank you.”

Bruce nodded again, and Damian returned the gesture. Again.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, Damian. That’s all.”

“Okay.” And with that, Damian walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Damian, that's uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh pretty gay, bro. You too, colin. Anything you want to share with the class?
> 
> My tumblr is octoaliencowboy come yell with me


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The witch has been defeated, and now it's time for Colin and the other kids to rejoin society. We'll see how it goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! This is,, twenty two pages, 7068 words, of just,, boys being dumb. This is my magnum opus. This last chapter killed me. I'm deceased. Enjoy.
> 
> Oh yeah, and for texting bits > is colin and < is damian. I think. I didn't check. Don't @ me

“And this over here is my 3D printer. I mainly use it to produce batarangs and such equipment, but I can use it for other things, too.”

 

“Whoa, so you can make _anything_ with this?”

 

It had been a whole week since the witch had been defeated and Colin and the other children were set free, and they had been integrating back into society well enough. Right now Damian was showing Colin his and Superboy’s HQ.

 

“Yes, anything.”

 

“ _Awesome._ ” Colin breathed. “Can I try it?”

 

“Be my guest.” Damian said. “Just don’t break it. I’ll be over by the computer, I have case notes to review.” He walked off, leaving Colin by the 3D printer.

 

Colin grinned as he fired it up, trying to hold in his laughter. This was gonna be _great_.

 

Thirty minutes later, Jon arrived at the HQ.

 

“Hey, Damian. Oh, hi Colin!” The ten year old said when he spotted the redheaded teen by Damian’s 3D printer. “You’re looking way better.”

 

“Thanks, Super-Baby. Dames, come check this out!”

 

Damian hummed, leaving his spot at the computer to see what Colin was up to, Jon trailing quickly behind. Once he saw he let out a strangled noise of part shock, horror, disgust, and amusement.

 

“Wilkes, you- you made- several miniature... stylized... _phalluses_!”

 

Colin laughed. “A bunch of tiny dicks, yeah. Aren’t they hilarious? Just look!” He picked one up, holding it out to the two other boys. It was smooth and rounded and lacked detail, but was still very clearly a penis, small enough to fit perfectly in Colin’s palm.

 

Jon just gaped at him.

 

“This one’s name is Ryan. And this one over here is Carson, and this one is named Keisha-“

 

Jon tried desperately to find a response to this but he just… couldn’t. He had no words. Damian’s friend who he didn’t know all _that_ well but still thought was cool and nice was there, in their HQ, wearing some band t-shirt that Jon didn’t recognize but looked like one of those bands his parents probably wouldn’t want him to listen to, making a bunch of little… things, with the 3D printer.

 

And Damian hadn’t even yelled at him _once_ for it. He was just gazing at the redhead as he continued naming the… _things,_ with a look on his face that Jon didn’t know what it was but he had _never_ seen on the older boy’s face before. It was almost like...

 

“Colin, what do you even plan to _do_ with all these little phalluses?” Damian asked suddenly, breaking Jon out of his internal monologue. Colin shrugged, looking a little like he hadn’t thought that far ahead, yet.

 

“Uh, I dunno. Paperweights?”

 

Damian snorted. “Paperweights?”

 

Colin grinned. “Yeah, paperweights!” He said.

 

“You should sell them.”

 

“Penis Paperweights! Use em in your school, use em in your office!” Colin said, presenting the little _things_ and talking in a stereotypical infomercial guy voice. “They can do anything! Weight your papers, paper your weights, hell they’ll even _fuck your wife_ for _only_ twenty down payments of _nine ninety-nine_! Call now!”

 

Oh my god, now he was swearing and Damian- Damian was _laughing?!_ Is- it it the apocalypse?? Is the world ending?? Damian is laughing and Colin is laughing too and oh, now Damian is talking and slapping Colin a little on the arm and _what is going on?!??!_

 

“Oh, Colin!” Damian was saying. “You are _ridiculous._ ”

 

It was almost like- it was almost like… oh my god!

 

The realization came to Jon so suddenly it was like getting smacked in the face with a tonne of Kryptonite _bricks._

 

 _Damian has a_ **_crush_ ** _on Colin!_

 

Jon didn’t know what to do with this information. He had just had the paradigm shift of a lifetime. The world was turned on its axis. His mind was imploding. Damian had a _crush_ on Colin Wilkes! _Damian_ had a crush on Colin Wilkes! Damian had a crush on _Colin Wilkes_!

 

Maybe if he said it in his head in enough different ways then the universe would start to make sense again.

 

Pretty soon the older boys’ laughter died down and Damian smirked at Jon.

 

“Wilkes, I think you fried poor Superboy’s brain.”

 

Jon found he still couldn’t muster words so he just stuck his tongue out at him, and Colin laughed again. And now that he was looking for it, Jon totally saw the look on Colin’s face as he kept talking with Damian was the same that Damian had earlier. Jon realized that that was the way his _parents_ looked at each other, sometimes. Wait, did this mean-

 

 _Colin_ had a crush on _Damian, too?!_

 

Somehow his baffled Jon even more than the previous revelation did. Who in their right mind would have a crush on Damian, of all people?!

 

Obviously Colin was _not_ in his right mind. The guy listened to music that would disappoint Jon’s parents and used to fight crime while pumped full of super muscle serum with the code name _abuse,_ and met Damian once three years ago and decided ‘oh yeah, this is the little butthead I want as my best friend’.

 

Made total sense.

 

Eventually Jon managed to tune back into the conversation only to find Colin and Damian were now talking among the two of them, having seemingly forgotten all about Jon.

 

“..have you put any more thought at all into your new alias?”

 

“Nah, not yet.”

 

“Hm. It really is a pity we’ll have to rename your bike. And _the cycle of abuse_ was so clever, too.”

 

“Yeah, that was pretty good. Rest in pieces, cycle of abuse.”

 

Actually never mind, they were made for each other. God, that was so morbid. Jon scoffed, walking over to the computer and leaving them to themselves. Whatever. They’re big kids. They’ll figure it out eventually.

 

:::::::::::::::::::::

 

A month later, they had not figured it out. They spent as much time as humanly possible together, and when they didn’t they texted, but somehow Colin and Damian had _still_ not figured it out.

 

Boys are just dumb like that.

 

“No, you have to _balance_ the equation, see? The whole point is so that in the end, both sides are equal.”

 

“Okay but like… _how_ do I do that?”

 

Damian sighed, explaining it again. A lot of the last month they had spent trying to get Colin caught up in school, so that he could just finish grade eight with the rest of his peers instead of being stuck in a _grade five_ class with a bunch of kids way younger than him.

 

Turns out he was just as bad at math now as he was three years ago. This whole cross-multiplication thing made no sense. Surface area? Perimeter? _Volume_?

 

All fake. Colin was sure of it. Math wasn’t real, people made it up.

 

At least Damian was a good tutor. Colin wasn’t sure why Jon had snorted so hard when he said that, because he _was_.

 

“So, do you understand now?”

 

Colin stared hard at the numbers, trying to make sense of them. “Uhh… I can’t read suddenly, I don’t know.”

 

“Ugh!” Damian threw down the pencil, and Colin laughed at his friends exasperation.

 

“Why don’t we take a break for now? Colin said, grabbing his backpack and unzipping it. He pulled out a tupperware container full of rolls. They were in the garage-recently-turned clubhouse, and it was where they spent most of their time. It was full of blankets and beanbag chairs, and it had a coffee table, cupboards full of snacks, a tv, and two couches that they had pushed together to form one big mega-couch. They also had wifi. Damian had snagged his dad’s credit card to furnish the place. Although the only true expensive thing in there was the tv, everything else Colin had insisted they raid thrift shops for because it gave the place ‘a better aesthetic’. Damian thought it made the place ugly, but the clubhouse was Colin’s idea so Colin had the final say. Right now they were seated on the floor, with all their papers spread across the coffee table. Hozier was playing in the background from Damian’s phone. “Lori made us food.”

 

“Ah, yes, how is your foster family doing, anyway?” Damian asked, taking a bite out of one of the rolls. It was a little flaky, but it was good, and he and Colin tore through the box pretty quickly.

 

“Oh, they’re great! Kathy just got a haircut so now she looks even more butch than usual but it’s a good look, and the other day she and Lori-“

 

“No no, Colin,” Damian interrupted him. “I meant the dog.”

 

Colin laughed. “Humper’s doing good.” He said. “Eating things, humping things, living his best life.”

 

Damian nodded in satisfaction. He had been to Colin’s house a few times, and the first time he visited it looked like he was going to pay more attention to Humper (short for Humperdinck), but then the dog tried to make sweet, sweet love to Damian’s leg and Damian screamed.

 

Colin had laughed at him.

 

Then he had done a full inspection of Colin’s new house and thoroughly unnerved his new foster moms. Colin really liked his new foster moms. They were cool, and totally knew how to deal with all his weird mental health crap, and they didn’t mind if he swore or stayed out late.

 

And they didn’t care about the venom thing, either, _and_ they were fully supportive of his incoming grunge phase, too.

 

He thought it was kinda funny that the first adults he’d actually trust in a long time would be a couple of super butch lesbians who slow danced in the kitchen sometimes and named their horny dog after a classic movie villain. Maybe it was because _they_ trusted _him_ , and believed in him, and adults usually didn’t do that. Adults also usually didn’t let him get his ears pierced, and he was pretty excited for that to happen, but that was that and this was this, so.

 

Suddenly Colin got a _great_ idea.

 

“Hey, we should get Humper and Titus to meet! They could have like a little dog-playdate!”

 

Damian grinned, and Colin felt like he had just found the meaning of life.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

The next time they saw each other it was the day after Colin got his ears pierced. He kept smiling excitedly and talking about how he was already thinking about getting his eyebrow pierced too, and maybe a second piercing on his ears because apparently Kathy said the earrings made him look ‘fly as hell’. Damian didn’t know how to process all this. There was _something_ happening somewhere inside him and it had something to do with Colin, of that he was sure, but he couldn’t tell what the something was or if it was somewhere in his body or in his head or _why_ it was because of Colin. One thing was for certain, though: that was a hell of a lot of emotion to be experiencing over someone who’s supposedly just a friend.

 

_Hm. Suspicious. Who authorized this?_

 

Oh well. What was that thing Damian had heard Jason say? Ah, yes.

 

_That sounds like a problem for future me._

 

:::::::::::::::::::::

 

Damian and Colin’s dynamic was a little weird for quite a bit of time after Colin had been rescued. Sometimes they acted like perfectly normal, or as normal as they could get, _not clingy_ friends, and some other time one of them would start thinking about things and then they didn’t want to let the other out of their sight. Sometimes they both got into one of these moods at the same time and they ended up just sitting together in silence, holding each other so tight like if they loosened their grip for even a second either boy would suddenly fade away.

 

Like they were right now.

 

They were curled up under a blanket together on the club-garage’s mega-couch, something playing on Netflix in he background that neither were paying attention to.

 

If Colin weren’t thinking about how Damian had died once then maybe he would be thinking about how the other boy was actually really warm and having his arms around him like this felt really nice.

 

But Colin wasn’t thinking about that.

 

He was thinking about how Damian _died once._

 

And it really freaked him out.

 

Eventually Damian spoke. “Colin, have I ever told you about my mother's side of the family?”

 

Where was this going?

 

“Uh… no?”

 

Damian sighed, tightening his arms around Colin’s middle. “Before I lived with my father… before I became Robin, I was raised by the league of assassins.”

 

“So… you were an assassin?”

 

“Yes. I… I felt the need to tell you because my background caused some issues recently in my friendship with Jon. I didn’t want it to come up unexpectedly and push you away from me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Damian gave him an incredulous look. “That’s it? All you have to say is okay?”

 

Colin nodded slowly. “I mean, I’m not exactly… shocked, is all.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Dames, the first day I met you you smeared blood all over your face and maimed a bad guy with a _sword._ If I wasn’t fazed by you then I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

 

“Colin, I’ve _killed_ people. I’ve killed _hundreds_ of people. Doesn’t that bother you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh.”

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

“I _knew_ they would be best friends!” Colin smiled as Titus and Humper ran around the grounds of Wayne manor. He and Damian had followed through on Colin’s idea of the puppy play date, and now the dogs were happily frolicking about and tearing up the grass. The two boys sat on the porch, watching their pets play. Colin’s little bandana wearing Boston terrier looked comically small next to the Great Dane.

 

“Yes. I’m glad Titus is making friends with dogs his own age.”

 

“You’re so weird.”

 

:::::::::::::::::

 

“Hold _still_!”

 

“Sorry, it tickles!”

 

Damian huffed, touching the brush to Colin’s skin again. They were sitting up in Damian’s room, colouring in the stretch marks littered all across Colin’s body. They weren’t sure whose idea it was, but something happened that led them to this side of Damian’s room where the vigilante kept his art supplies. Colin picked out a sparkly watercolour palette that has actually been a gift from Dick, at some point. They were from michaels and not the highest quality but Damian appreciated the sentiment anyway.

 

“If you make me mess up one more time then you will walk out of here with only half your skin painted like a fool.”

 

“Do your worst.” Colin said, eye twitching as Damian painted in the marks on his cheeks with a glittery gold colour. Colin thought red would have looked cooler, but Damian said red would have been garish and gold complimented the colour of his hair better and went with that instead. Damian did that weird tongue clicking thing of his and grabbed the side of Colin’s face to keep him steady. Colin felt a light blush rising to his cheeks at his friends touch and willed it to go away before Damian noticed.

 

Luckily, Damian seemed too focused on the paint. Colin’s eye drifted over to a large easel behind them. There was an unfinished canvas perched on it.

 

“Did you paint that?” Colin said, knowing it was pretty obvious but figuring it would at least start a conversation.

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“It’s… pretty gory.”

 

“So it is.”

 

“Is it you?”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“It’s pretty cool.”

 

Damian looked up at him at that, then looked over his shoulder at the painting, then looked back at Colin. “Cool?” He said, raisin an incredulous eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, cool.”

 

“Colin, that’s a self portrait in which I am in the process of tearing my chest open and removing my own heart with my bare hands. And you think it’s… cool?”

 

Colin shrugged. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I don’t know what all the symbolism is or anything but it looks good.”

 

A moment of silence passed and Colin wondered if it was considered weird to say your best friends angsty vent art was ‘cool’. He decided on yes and immediately started to regret every word that he had ever said in his life. Then he remembered that anxiety was stupid and Damian was his best friend and wouldn’t judge him, even if he could be a little snarky sometimes.

 

Why was he so nervous around Damian lately anyway? He had nothing to prove to him. He didn't need to impress him. So what was this stupid emotional crap about anyway? Damian wore turtlenecks, oversized sweaters and _mom jeans_. The guy listened to Lorde and said stuff like ‘anything can be art if you make up some deep enough bullshit about it’. Why would Colin ever worry about looking good in front of Damian?

 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Damian spoke, finally letting go of Colin’s face. “There, finished.” Colin instinctively reached up to paw at his cheeks and Damian slapped his hands away.

 

“Don’t _touch_ it, you’ll mess up the paint!”

 

Colin got up to look in the mirror, smiling at the lines of gold glitter all on his face, neck and arms. He whistled appreciatively. “I look like a sparkly tiger god.”

 

He looked back at Damian and caught a smile in the other boy’s face. He wondered what the hell he could have done to make Damian smile like that but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.

 

::::::::::::::::::::

 

Colin spent long hours trying to figure out why the hell he felt so shaky whenever Damian smiled. Which was actually happening a lot more often lately, and Colin thought if it kept going on like this he’d be driven into an early grave from all the times his brain suddenly stopped working.

 

When he brought up this pressing new health concern with his foster moms during dinner they just laughed. He didn’t get why they were laughing. He’d spent most of his early life either in foster homes or hospitals, so it wouldn’t be too unreasonable for him to be developing some sort of situational heart condition. This was a legitimate concern!

 

“Oh, it’s legitimate alright.” Said Lori. “Colin, has anyone ever given you _the talk?_ ”

 

Colin scrunched up his nose. “I know what sex is.”

 

Kathy laughed again. “No, no, not that talk. The _other_ talk.” She said. “The gay talk.”

 

“The gay talk?”

 

“Yeah, Colin, the gay talk.” Kathy said it like it was obvious. “You said you felt weird whenever Damian _smiled._ That sounds pretty gay to me.”

 

Colin looked down, poking at his pasta. He didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t thought of it like that.

 

He wasn’t exactly shocked at the idea that he was kinda gay. Or, okay, completely gay. He was at least _that_ self aware.

 

But gay for Damian?

 

“Colin, have you ever even considered that you might have feelings for Damian?” Lori asked.

 

Colin shook his head, using the fact he had a mouth full of noodles as an excuse to not talk. Lori sighed.

 

“Really? Kid, for over a month you’re either with Damian, texting Damian, or talking to _us_ about Damian. You’re all ‘Oh, he’s so smart, he’s a really good artist, wow Damian is so nice the other day he saved a bunch of kittens from the rain like the mysterious bad boy with a secret heart of gold he is isn’t that so great?’”

 

Colin flushed. He hadn’t even realized. “Sorry.” He mumbled around the noodles in his mouth.

 

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay,” said Kathy at the same time that Lori said “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

 

“Colin, you’ve been pining like a lesbian ever since you came back from the witch’s lair.” Kathy said.

 

Colin didn’t know how to process all this. He really never realized… maybe… did he… oh my god, he really _did_ like Damian!

 

“What… what should I do?”

 

“You should do what _Lori_ did when she realized she had feelings for _me_.”

 

“No! No, you should _not_ do what I did-“

 

“What did she do?” Colin asked. Kathy smirked.

 

“Pined for a year and a half until she actually worked up the courage to ask me out, and then rambled about saliva.”

 

Colin let out a bark of laughter while Lori shoved her wife on the shoulder. “Babe, that was _twenty years ago!_ When are you going to stop telling people that story?” She whined.

 

“I’m gonna tell that story at your _funeral._ ”

 

Lori sighed. “No, but really, Colin.” She said. “Don’t do what I did, okay? Figure out your feelings, then _talk_ to him about it. You have to talk to him.”

 

“But what if he doesn’t-“

 

“If he doesn’t return your feelings then that would be that. At least then you’ll be able to start moving on.”

 

“But what if he-“

 

“He wouldn’t want to stop being your friend, Cols.” Said Kathy. “I’ve only met the kid a handful of times, but I can tell he’d sell his soul for you. He wouldn’t give up your friendship over something like this.”

 

“Oh.” Colin poked at his pasta again. Lori reached across the table and patted Colin on the shoulder, smiling comfortingly. Colin tried to smile back.

 

Maybe he should just wait and see how it goes.

 

:::::::::::

 

“Colin, what are you _wearing_?”

 

Colin followed Damian’s gaze down to his legs. They had agreed to meet at the movie theatre after school to see _Loving Vincent._  It was Damian's idea. It was not a date.

 

Colin had decided to wear his new ripped jeans anyway.

 

“Uhh… pants?”

 

Damian shook his head like a disapproving grandmother. “Colin, over a third of your legs are exposed. The whole point of pants is so that your legs _aren’t_ exposed.”

 

Colin huffed. “It’s _fashion_ , Dames.”

 

“It’s impractical!” Damian gestured to Colin’s knees and he suddenly flushed, feeling self-conscious. “It’s cold out, Colin.”

 

Colin frowned, his temper rising. “Well sorry if we can’t all wear stuffy turtlenecks like you do.”

 

“It’s a little thing called _modesty_ \- whatever.” Damian cut himself off suddenly, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the theatre. “Let’s just go in and not make a scene. We’ll miss the movie at this rate.”

 

Colin was about to argue but thought better of it, instead looking down at where their hands were joined. Now that he had figured out he liked Damian he was hyper aware of every little thing. Every little touch and glance. And now they were holding hands.

 

_It’s fine. This is fine. Stop looking into it so much Colin. Friends hold hands all the time. It doesn’t mean he likes you._

 

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he didn’t even notice Damian paying for both their tickets. He was still mad at Damian, though. He had thought the jeans looked good but then Damian had to go and make a big deal about it. They were just pants. So what if the holes were kinda big?

 

Then again, maybe they were kinda flashy… and it wasn’t like he had any real reason to dress up. Maybe he should have just-

 

Suddenly Colin’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket just as they were getting into their seats. It was a text from Damian.

 

 **_For the record,_ ** it said. **_While I believe the pants are not suited to the weather, they do look good. I did not mean to be rude. I’m sorry._ **

 

Never mind. Damian thought the jeans looked good.

 

He was never taking them off.

 

Colin looked over at the boy sitting next to him as the lights went down. He was looking determinatedly ahead, seemingly not acknowledging Colin.

 

Colin smiled, and the movie started.

 

:::::::::::::

 

Before Colin knew it, it was already Halloween. Trick or treating had never really been a thing for him, it usually wasn’t when you grew up a poor orphan in the rougher rough parts of Gotham. But Colin was totally down to have a party.

 

In the end Colin didn’t actually have enough friends to host a Halloween party (read: he had one friend and that was Damian, and maybe Jon too. He was a nice kid, at least). So Damian agreed to gather some of his own friends so they could all hang out in the clubgarage.

 

Colin was having some trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Damian had _multiple. Friends._ He must have had some serious character development while Colin was gone.

 

“You’ll get along, I promise.” Damian had said. Colin was inclined to agree. There were five of them now altogether, gathered on the mega-couch and watching Brooklyn nine-nine on netflix, per Maya’s ~~demand~~ request.

 

“So, Colin,” Said Maya. She was the oldest out of all of them, and Colin thought she was really cool. “Whatever possessed you to befriend dweebsalot over there?”

 

“Hey!” Damian cried off to the side, where Suren was trying to force him into a pair of cat ears while Jon laughed. Colin looked back at the girl he was talking to and shrugged.

 

On the tv, Captain Holt was screaming ‘bone’.

 

“Eh, I’m not exactly known for my good judgment.”

 

Damian let out another affronted cry, and Jon cackled. The conversation petered off a little after that, the gaggle of kids focusing on the episode. Eventually Damian grabbed Colin by the wrist, dragging him up and away from the couches and saying something about getting more chips. As soon as they were out of earshot Jon turned to the teens beside him.

 

“What did I tell you?! They’re _totally_ in love with each other!” He hissed.

 

“You’re right and you should say it.” Maya said as Suren nodded. “God, what a couple of oblivious idiots.”

 

“Should we… do something about it?” Jon asked.

 

“What, set them up? No.” Suren said. “Damian is ludicrously stubborn and from what I can tell, Colin is too. Nothing is going to happen between them unless they instigate it themselves.” He shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

 

Maya nodded in agreement, but Jon wasn't convinced. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too, _almost two months ago_.”

 

“These things take time, Jonathan.” Suren tutted. “Don’t they teach you that in kindergarten?”

 

“I’m not in _kinder-_ ”

 

Across the room, Damian and Colin were talking quietly by the snack cupboards.

 

“Did you mean it, Colin?” Damian asked, keeping his eyes focused on the contents of the cupboard. Colin blinked in confusion.

 

“Mean what?”

 

“Was befriending me really an error of judgement? I know I’m not the most… emotionally available, but I do value our friendship and I apologize if I’ve been subpar- but if you don’t want to be friends with me then you ought to say something instead of just going along with it like a spineless coward.” He finished sharply.

 

“Wh-Damian...” Colin said, baffled. “I- I was just joking around, I’m sorry. I do like being friends with you; you’re great and not… _supbar_ or whatever. I’m sorry, I won’t joke about that kind of thing if you’re insecure about it.”

 

Damian’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I’m not _insecure_ about-” He cut himself off at the look of playful incredulity on his friend’s face. He huffed, grabbing a new bag of chips from the cupboard. “Whatever. Let’s go, we’re missing the episode.”

 

Colin just smiled, trailing behind him.

 

:::::::::::::

 

**_> Hey Dames_ **

**_> Damian_ **

**_> You there?_ **

**_> Aorry_ **

**_> *sorry _ **

**_> I just _ **

**_> nvm sorry_ **

 

**_< I’m here, Colin. Are you alright?_ **

 

Damian looked down at his phone, concern twisting in his gut as he read the string of rapid-fire messages his friend had just sent him. He had been on patrol, but this seemed more important. He sat down on the edge of a quiet rooftop, waiting while the little thought bubble icon floated in the corner, signaling that Colin was typing.

 

**_> No_ **

 

**_< What happened?_ **

 

**_> I overheard Kathy and Lori talkimg in the kitchen_ **

**_> Ghey were thinking of adopting me but they can’t afford the fees_ **

**_> Usually adopting out of the fostee system would only cost like four thiismd dollars at MOST but this is Gotham so ofc the agency would ask for upwards of firteen thousand _ **

**_> I just_ **

**_> Im pissed _ **

**_> Dames this is the first time I think Ive ever actually WANTED to stay in a home and it’s definitely the first time anyones wanted MS to stay amd as it is the system could decide to just move me whemeber they wanted and noone coipd do anything about it _ **

**_> Ugh why autocorrect gotta do me like this _ **

**_> Its just _ **

**_> Of course it all comes down to money doesnt it_ **

**_> Its always money_ **

 

Damian let out a heavy breath. He felt awful. He wished he could find a way to make Colin feel better but he was never good with comforting words.

 

**_< Colin, I’m so sorry. _ **

 

**_> Don’t _ **

 

Damian gulped. Don’t? What did that mean? Did he say something wrong?

 

**_> I know Im just a stupid sad orphan okay I dont need any pity Ive had enough of that in my life already _ **

 

Oh, so that was it.

 

**_< I know, Colin. I understand. You think I don’t know what it’s like to be pitied? To have whispers and stares follow you everywhere you go? I don’t pity you. I’m genuinely sorry this is your situation and I wish I could do something make it better. _ **

 

Colin didn’t reply for a few minutes. It was _only_ a few minutes, but they stretched out til they felt like hours to Damian. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore and sent another text.

 

**_< Do you want me to come over?_ **

 

Another moment, then finally a reply.

 

**_> Yes pls_ **

 

Patrol could wait. He sent a quick message to his father saying he wouldn’t be returning to the manor that evening and took off in the direction of Colin’s house.

 

When he arrived he slid in through the window, silent as ever, into Colin’s room. The lights were turned off, but under the closed door he could see lights on and faint voices. He couldn’t make out the words but they sounded fairly calm, at least, so Damian didn’t concern himself with that at the moment. Instead he focused on the still form curled up on the bed.

 

“Colin?” Damian whispers. Colin shifts a little in his place on top of the covers but otherwise doesn’t respond. Damian creeps closer. “Colin, I know you’re awake.”

 

That got Colin to at least turn to look up at him. A quick look at his face showed that he hadn’t been crying, but Damian hadn’t expected him to. In all the time he had known the boy Colin had never cried once.

 

In fact, _Damian_ was more the crier between the two, but that was a secret he guarded with his life.

 

Colin reached out for Damian and Damian stepped forward into the hug without complaint, holding the taller boy tight. They sat on the bed like that for a moment, Colin slumping further and further into Damian’s arms. Eventually Colin sat up, extracting himself from the hug. Damian tried not to feel too disappointed.

 

“Come on, let’s go beat up some thugs.” Colin said, pulling on a large coat and jotting down a quick note for his foster moms.

 

“Have you come up with a new alias yet?” Damian asked.

 

Colin sighed, hoisting himself out the window. “No, I can’t think of anything good. I’m not worried about it though, something will come to me eventually.”

 

Damian followed, and the two boys climbed down into the alley below. “Once you do we could probably have Fox design you a proper uniform. One that stretches enough so you won’t have to worry about ripping your clothes anymore.”

 

Colin made an expression that probably would have been a smile, if he weren’t already too deep in distress to smile properly. It was too wry, too bitter. Damian didn’t like seeing that look on Colin’s face. Damian didn’t want to see Colin bitter.  “Yeah, that’d be cool. A real costume and a real name and I’ll finally be a _real_ hero.” He chuckled mirthlessly, kicking a rock across the street.

 

“Colin, you _are_ a real hero. You-“

 

“Shh!” Colin cut him off, pausing in his step. Damian paused, too.

 

There, down the street, in an alley. The sound of someone getting beaten up. They shared a look, Colin already transforming.

 

This talk would have to wait.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::

 

**_> Hey Damian quick questch _ **

**_> Why did Bruce Wayne™ just transfer my foster moms thirty thousand dollars _ **

 

**_< Oh, bees?_ **

 

**_> Dont get cheeky with me Damian I know it was you_ **

 

**_< Yes, you’re right. It was me. _ **

 

**_> Normally Id be mad that you just threw money at the problem but tbh… thank you_ **

**_> I gotta ask tho _ **

**_> Why thirty thousand? That’s WAY more than we needed_ **

 

**_< It’s so that the agency can’t slap you with any extra surprise fees at the last minute. And I know you’ve been tight on cash lately anyway. _ **

**_< I’m sorry. It was the only way I really knew how to help, and you deserve a proper home. _ **

 

**_> Well, were greatful. Lori especially is ecstatic. Thank you :)_ **

 

**_< It’s actually spelt grateful _ **

 

**_> Oh fuck off XD_ **

 

**_< If you EVER use that emoticon in my presence again I will NOT hesitate to disembowel you. _ **

 

**_> *swishes tail and glomps u* h-hewwo? :3c XD_ **

 

**_< Stop_ **

 

**_> OwO Mr. Obama? Nya? X3c_ **

 

**_< STOP_ **

 

::::::::::

 

Colin seriously regretted taking Damian up on his offer to help him train. They were currently sparring in the batcave, and Colin was getting his ass kicked.

 

Damian had said he had to be able to fight without the aid of the venom, and he couldn’t always rely on his sheer size and strength to help him in a tight situation.

 

Colin thought that was bogus and Damian was just getting revenge over the nya XD thing.

 

“That all you got, _Gladiator_?”

 

“Well- _huff-_ sorry we don’t all have fancy ninja training like you, _Robin._ ”

 

Colin lay on his back on the tatami mats, ignoring his friend’s taunts and staring up into the abyss that held the ceiling of the batcave up there somewhere. They could hear the occasional fluttering wing or squeak of the bats that lived in there, but Colin figured he’d be fine so long as he didn’t _see_ any. He grunted as he felt Damian nudge him with his foot.

 

“Get up you oaf!”

 

Colin grunted again. “I can’t. I’m dead.”

 

Damian huffed. He grabbed onto the ginger's arm and tried to pull him up, but Colin just smirked, slowly powering up, getting heavier and heavier until Damian wasn’t able to lift him anymore and was forced to drop him back on the ground.

 

“Hey- no, stop that! You agreed no powers!”

 

“I changed my mind. Y- hey Dames, d’you think my new suit will have a cape?”

 

Damian tutted at him, and Colin grinned. It felt good to be back.

 

:::::::::::::::

 

Turns out the new suit _did_ have a cape. A thick, dull red cape that could be detached easily. It also had several plates of armor layered across sturdy, expandable fabric that offered him ample protection in either form. It was sleeveless, but he also had arm guards that could be trapped on and detachable plates of armour for his shoulders as well. The suit came with his own utility belt that he mostly used to store his meds, and had a pattern on the hips that was probably a callback to those weird leather skirts the ancient romans wore. It also had fingerless gloves with reinforced knuckles. A sword probably would have kept to the gladiator theme better, but Colin didn’t really know how to use a sword and swords were Damian’s _thing_ , anyway. It was just better to stick to his own patented style of fighting: Smashing With Fists. It also came with a red domino mask that matched the cape, since bats were super anal retentive about secret identities. It was one of Batman’s conditions for him being allowed to get a suit, actually. And Colin wasn’t about to argue with Batman.

 

Colin’s foster moms clapped and whistled as he did a little spin in the kitchen, showing the suit off.

 

“Damian said having exposed arms was impractical and inviting injury, but I think it looks good. Besides, they’re not _completely_ exposed, and I’m mostly physically indestructible anyway and have expedited healing, so...” Colin said.

 

“Well didn’t roman gladiators traditionally have bare chests, anyway? It could always be worse.” Kathy said, pulling a grin out of her soon-to-be-adopted son.

 

“That’s what I said!”

 

Lori reached over and ruffled his hair. “We’re proud of you, kid.” Colin ducked away from her hand, blushing.

 

“Aw jeez, Lori…”

 

Yeah, it felt _really_ good to be back.

 

:::::::::::::::

 

Some more time passed and soon it was the end of November. Colin was going to be starting school again soon as he was finally caught up (with barely passing marks but it was enough for him). He and Damian were settling down for the night in the clubgarage after a long patrol.

 

Colin thought that the shower was probably the greatest thing they had ever added to the place. He towel dried his hair and flopped down into the mega-couch, already in his pajamas and ready as hell to go to sleep. Colin smiled as he dug Rory out of the mess of blankets and pillows. He wasn’t nearly as attached to the stuffed bear as he had been when he was younger, but he had been still been unspeakably touched when he found out Damian had held onto it for him. Sometimes stuff like that made Colin wonder if his friend maybe actually did return his feelings.

 

He shook the thought from his head as said friend came over then, dressed in his own pajamas. Damian shut off the overhead lights, and Colin reached over to turn on the nightlight on the table beside them. It was a little clunky, but it gave off enough soft, multicoloured light to see by but not so much as to be obtrusive. Colin liked it a lot, and had a second one just like it in his bedroom. He adjusted the covers over himself, and turned to say something to Damian.

 

The words got caught in his throat as soon as he opened his mouth. Colin hadn’t taken into account the fact that Damian would look really, really good in this lights. The different colours seemed to dance across his brown skin and reflected in his eyes, and cast shadows that only highlighted his features. Not to mention the strange look on his face that Colin couldn’t name but made his heart flutter and stomach flip anyway.

 

 _You stop that right now, heart._ Colin thought sternly, as though the emotions would suddenly stop welling up inside him just because he told them to.

 

“Colin,” Damian said, voice soft but not quite a whisper.

 

“Y-yeah?” Colin answered. Damian shifted closer to him, and Colin briefly felt like he might die.

 

In a good way, of course.

 

“I need to test a theory.”

 

A little closer. Colin’s poor gay heart was about to give out and he was sure Damian could hear it beating. “Oh- okay?”

 

“Please don’t hesitate to punch me in the face if you deem it necessary.”

 

 _Huh?_ “Whatever you need to do, Dames, just _do_ it.”

 

Damian did that weird (read: cute) tongue clicking thing of his and…

 

Colin’s brain turned off. It just- switched right off. It was the only explanation. It suddenly just stopped working. It must have, because Colin wasn’t even able to process the fact that _Damian was kissing him_ (!!!!!), let alone do anything about it, before Damian started to pull away.

 

Somewhere through the haze of _gay panic_ Colin managed to think _oh no you don’t_ , and, launching himself forward, wrapped his arms around Damian’s neck and pulled him back in for another kiss, and another one, and another one…

 

Now, Colin had never actually kissed anyone before. But he’d read a lot about kissing, and he’d practiced on the back of his hand tons of times, so despite lack of experience he felt like he was doing a pretty good job at kissing Damian right then.

 

It also helped that Damian was kissing back with equal enthusiasm.

 

Their noses bumped together a couple of times and Colin finally broke the kiss to laugh. He opened his eyes (he didn’t remember ever closing his eyes but that was that and this was this, so…) to see that Damian was grinning at him right back and suddenly his lungs felt too small.

 

Forget about whoever said that first kisses aren’t always magical or even good, because that was _awesome_. Colin wasn’t sure he’d ever recover.

 

“So… what was your theory?” Colin asked, still smiling, and absently tracing little circles on Damian shoulder. And hey- when did Damian’s hands get on his waist? No matter. They could stay there.

 

“That I’m in love with you.” Damian whispers, looking away. It was hard to see in that light, but the treacherous darkening of his cheeks was still noticeable.

 

Colin’s heart stuttered. Love. Wow. That sure was… a word.

 

A _really good_ word.

 

Colin _really liked_ that word.

 

_Love._

 

“Oh.” Colin said, blushing too. “Me too. Um! That is, like, I meant, y-you too… I uh, like, um...”

 

Damian snickered, and Colin punched him in the arm.

 

“What I’m _trying_ to say I li- l… I love you too, asshole.”

 

Damian grinned harder, and Colin threw himself backwards into the covers, burrowing in and trying desperately to hide his flaming face. He tensed briefly when he felt Damian settle in behind him and throw an arm over his waist, but it was mostly because he just wasn’t expecting the action, and quickly relaxed.

 

“How are you gonna be the big spoon when you’re so damn short?” He teased. Damian kicked him.

 

“I will not hesitate to push you onto the floor”

 

Colin laughed lightly, turning over to face the other boy. Almost immediately Damian shifted so that his head was resting on Colin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Colin put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

 

“Is this gonna be a thing with you?” Colin asked, remembering that time when he woke up in the batcave and Damian was sleeping on him in almost that exact position.

 

“Yes.”

 

Colin yawned, still smiling. “So are we like… boyfriends, now?”

 

Damian sighed. “Yes. Now stop talking and go to sleep.”

 

Colin did just that.


End file.
